A Little More Time
by Jess Pallas
Summary: DH Spoilers Was it possible to save two lives without altering history? Was it possible to given them a future twenty years after they had supposedly died? Teddy Lupin thought so...
1. Prologue: Watching

**A/N**: This is an unashamed Spoiler-filled post-DH canon-fixing denial fic that I started the day after DH came out as a personal way of coping with the deaths of my two favourite characters. The idea for it attacked me and stuck and wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it. My intent is to bring back Remus and Tonks while staying true to canon and thanks to my Wheat-Thrashing Committee of **_Celtmama, Snorkackcatcher, MrsTater, Gilpin, aftertherain, Drumher, Godricgal _**and **_Lady Bracknell_** who all kindly volunteered to help me pull this blighter into some kind of order after I got bogged down, I've fingers crossed succeeded...

**_A Little More Time by Jess Pallas_**

_**Prologue: Watching**_

You do not touch. You do not change. You do not interfere. We watch only.

It was the one rule they knew they couldn't break.

It was the absolute. The law. Every new initiate into the Historical Records section of the Department of Mysteries: Time Division was forced to commit it firmly to memory before they were even allowed to enter the Unspeakables realm on Level Nine. They signed their names one after another on the contract that bound them to it on pain of Azkaban. That every precaution possible had been taken against it, that it was believed to be beyond the power of any to disobey whether they wished to or not was entirely beside the point. In the wizarding world, impossible was not always as it seemed and the Division was taking no chances with history.

For that was their job. To watch history unfold. To observe the truth of past events and return with neatly annotated notes and corrections for the history books. Wrapped in a field of passiveness by means of an amulet that once worn could not be removed except in the present, they passed through a Time-Turning Portal into history and drifted through events as no more than invisible, insubstantial ghosts, watching and recording the past into which they silently ventured. They took no wands for passage through the Portal stripped away all magic, all unnatural disguises and they passed through walls and doors and people to find the truths hidden away by the swirling mists of time.

They had solved murders and resolved disappearances. They had watched events unfold in ways unsullied by the politics or allegiances of those who scribed their history books. It was Minister Shacklebolt who, twenty years before, had requested that the Department find some way to see the past without changing it, to learn the truth behind a myriad of unknown fates, to ensure once and for all after the lies and half-truths that had dogged the Ministry for so long could be untangled one way or another. He had wanted to know the truth of history, clean and pure and tell it to the world.

And then, two years ago, came the Portal. It had taken so long to reconstruct even a single Time-Turner, after the last of them had been destroyed in Harry Potter's venture into the Department of Mysteries when he had still been but a boy. It had taken longer still to construct a means to take a person back not hours, but decades. And time had stretched on further as they fought to turn this single hourglass into a gateway through which a team of impartial observers could step to any time, any place and watch and record what they saw without damaging the past or the future, without affecting events.

You do not touch. You do not change. You do not interfere. We watch only.

And when Teddy Lupin had joined the Historical Records Section, when he'd nodded obediently at the instruction he received, when he'd signed the contract and accepted his amulet with a smile, he'd never imagined that the day would come when he would want to break it.

But it was the Battle of Hogwarts that faltered his resolve.

Perhaps he shouldn't have gone. His Divisional head, Penelope Weasley, had taken him aside that morning for a quiet word, saying in a soft, understanding tone that they had received a request from the Minister to start looking at that fateful night in order to establish exactly how and why so many had died. She had squeezed his shoulder gently as she said it would be a difficult assignment for all involved but more so for those who had lost someone that day which was why she was offering both him and Dennis Creevey a chance to back out now. In fact Dennis, she informed him, had already headed off on a holiday with his wife. And she knew, of course, that Teddy's girlfriend Victoire was graduating from Hogwarts in a couple of month's time. Perhaps he could take a few weeks off and plan a trip for them both to celebrate…

But at the root of it all was the question. Was he going to stay? Or would he like to go?

And Teddy had chosen to stay.

It would have been a lie to say the thought of seeing his parents die didn't bother him. But at the same time, he had never known them and it was hard, really hard for him to see them as more than an abstract concept, a could-have-been, an empty hole in his life that ached sometimes but did not sting. After all, he'd never been alone – his Gran had raised and loved him like a son and Harry and his family and friends had always been there for him, treating him like one of them for as long as he could remember. Molly – or Auntie Molly as he had known her since childhood – had told him once that his father had promised her that if anything should happen to her or Uncle Arthur during the war, that he would watch over her children. And Molly Weasley and her family had paid that debt in kind.

It felt odd sometimes, to hear them talked of, these parents that his extended family had known so well and he never at all. Oh, Gran had told him so many teary eyed stories of his mother's childhood adventures and love of life and Harry's coming of age gift on his seventeenth birthday had been a trip into a pensieve to watch his father teaching a practical and highly amusing lesson on Boggarts at Hogwarts. That indeed, had been what had got him interested in the idea of the realities of the past in the first place.

But there were so many holes about _them_,together, a couple. When had they fallen in love? Why had they fallen in love? What had they been like together? No one really seemed to know apart from brief glimpses and hints – both Harry and Molly had ruefully told Teddy that on occasion trying to crack into his father's emotional state was like trying to dig through granite with a pin, and his mother, usually so demonstrative he was told, seemed to have respected his wishes to keep things just between themselves. The dawning of their relationship had apparently been quite a private thing, about which Molly seemed to know the most and that was very little. Sirius, Harry's godfather, seemed to have been his father's principle confident, but Sirius, like his parents, was dead and thus of no real use in unravelling their story. And Gran was no more help – it seemed his mother had not even confided in her about the relationship until she strolled in beaming and informed her parents that she was getting married in two days to a thirty-seven year old werewolf and did they want to come?

He knew they'd had troubles. No one had tried to hide that truth from him. But they'd had good times too and their love for each other had won out over doubts and war in the end. They weren't paragons. They were people.

Abstract people. Picture people. Story people. People whose faces and expressions should have been so familiar, whose gesture and manner should have been part of his every day, but when he looked into his heart for them he found nothing but photographs, stories and other people's memories.

They were people he knew of but didn't _know_. Somehow, they weren't quite real.

And if he did happen across them in the past, it would be no different to walking into that pensieve, to hearing stories, to looking at pictures. It wouldn't give him his childhood with them. It wouldn't make them any more real.

It wouldn't make them _his._

He had truly believed that. He was wrong.

For the next morning, he saw his parents die.

And it was the most real thing he'd ever seen.

He hadn't meant to watch. He hadn't even known that this would be the place. He'd known that their bodies had been found in the courtyard far below and there, he'd assumed they had died. They hadn't.

It had happened on the battlements above. The battlements that Teddy had chosen to observe the advance of the giants from.

From the sweat-stained, beaten-up look of his father and the Death Eater he had just pursued so furiously up the stairs from the grounds, the duel had been raging for quite some time. The Death Eater Teddy absently recognised from his notes as Antonin Dolohov had wheeled, bellowing spells almost desperately as his father ducked against the chunks of stone that rained down from perilously near his head, before firing back a curse that sent Dolohov reeling backwards, tumbling over, his wand spilling from his hand to rattle against the stone out of reach. Screams and roars, the bellows of advancing giants, the screech of spells tore through the air around them but suddenly it seemed as though nothing but this moment and these two men existed.

"Werewolf scum!" Dolohov's voice was thick and accented, made awkward by the blood trickling from his nose and lips as he crouched against the wall. "Beast! Savage!"

His father was breathing hard, gasping and his voice when it came, so gentle in that pensieve memory, was a harsh rasp that was all but unrecognisable.

"This from the man who just _murdered a child_!"

"A mudblood!"

"A _child_!" His father was spitting the words. "I knew Colin. I taught him. And you mowed him down like he was _nothing_." He was shaking his head. "I can't let this happen anymore."

His wand lifted slowly, deliberately, his hand shaking slightly but never flinching. "Enough is enough. _Avada_…"

But he got no further. For that was the moment when the club of the first advancing giant descended with a crash against the wall on which he stood.

The battlements shattered. In a hail of stone and dust and flying rock, Dolohov and his father disappeared.

"REMUS!"

He hadn't seen her arrive, hadn't even noticed her until she tore straight through his ghostly, unseen form with a warm flood so touch-like that almost sent him reeling. He caught a glimpse of flapping robes, of wispy brown hair as she lunged desperately forward, grabbing at something he couldn't quite see as the dust swirled and twisted through the air…

And then, miraculously, there they were. Alive.

"I've got you! Remus hold on, I've got you!"

And she had. She leaned back, straining against the cracked and broken remains of the battlements, her hands wrapped frantically around his upper arm as she pulled and pulled with all her might. He saw his father's other hand slap down against the wall, saw his dusty, dishevelled head appear, his eyes fixed upon his wife with a mixture of shock, joy and horror.

"What the _hell _are you doing here? Get out of here, now!"

His heart pounding with audible force, Teddy felt himself all but laugh out loud at the look that crossed his mother's face as she grasped the back of his father's robes and began to haul him bodily up those last few inches to safety.

"Do you mean _right_ now?" she exclaimed, her voices raising a good two octaves. "Or shall I finish _saving_ your life first?"

"Saving my life is good! You being safely with our baby is better!" With a grunt, his father hauled himself onto the remains of the flat stone walkway with a crunch, breathing even more heavily than before. He looked up at her then, one hand still grasped in hers as she helped haul him to his feet. His eyes met with hers then and they filled brim full with a cocktail of pleading, love and desperation so potent that it all but took Teddy's breath away.

"Get out of here," he whispered softly. "_Please_."

The battle was raging all around them, screams and spells and carnage. But in that instant, that brief, eternal instant, Teddy knew they could see no one but each other.

And in that moment, he knew that they were finally _real_ to him.

"_Avada Kedavra_!"

"No!"

The whispered word had slipped from between his lips, unconscious, unguided. But it was already too late.

For a moment his parents almost seemed to flicker, undulate, stumble but then the spell struck them both as one, a flash of green that washed across their bodies and dragged the life away from them. Their hands were still clutched together as their bodies crumpled over the edge and disappeared into the courtyard below.

A dusty figure on the far side of the gaping rent in the Hogwarts' wall was smirking victoriously. Grasping his retrieved wand in one hand, Antonin Dolohov turned and vanished into the dark stairwell beyond.

He'd almost forgotten. Almost allowed himself to forget that they were about to die. He'd lost himself in simply watching them.

He hadn't even seen Dolohov until the spell had come. That much he shared with his parents.

But they'd been together. And it had been quick.

But if they'd looked up once in that instant. If they'd just seen Dolohov one moment earlier…

His life, their lives. So different.

For one moment of distraction, they paid with their lives. And he lost them forever.

It was then that he looked down, saw the tiny piece of colour fluttering in the harsh wind of battle away from the spot where moments before, his parents had stood hand in hand. Crouching carefully, he stared at it.

It was a photograph. Of a baby. A baby with turquoise hair.

It was him.

A moment later, the wind grasped it once more and tossed it away into the air.

And that single moment was the first time that Teddy Lupin seriously wanted to risk everything

It would take so little. Just a second's difference would mean so much, a warning, a shove, a stunner fired at Dolohov before he had time to strike them. If he could just find a way…

But.

You do not touch. You do not change. You do not interfere. We watch only.

It was then that Teddy Lupin knew that he should never have agreed to come here.

He couldn't change history. He couldn't. Could he?

No. NO. No…

So there. It did no good to anyone to ponder what couldn't be.

_Even if, maybe… That time he morphed whilst in the field, over-stretched the size of his hand to try and record a historical artefact's size measurement and as he morphed, he'd felt the limited range of the field of passiveness straining around him, yearning to burst. He knew the reach of the field was limited, that it could only stretch so far within the bounds of human movement and then it'd dawned on him that he alone of all of them could stretch that little bit more than it could take. Penny had been so alarmed when he'd told her – she'd made him swear never to morph whilst through the Portal again and he had done so without giving it a second thought. But was this why? Had she realised what it might be possible for him to do? If he could reach that bit further, if he could break the field and reach beyond it then maybe, just maybe…_

He could touch the past. He could _change_ it.

The thought was there. At the back of his mind. And it refused to go away.

He told no one of what he had seen. And if he had been able to stay away, probably no one would have ever known.

But he couldn't.

The next day, when he should have been out on the grounds, he saw his father rush too late to the aid of blond teenage boy, saw him yell with fury and rush off in pursuit of Dolohov up the stairs towards those fateful battlements. And he had followed him. And watched. Again.

He vowed not to return after that, but then it was his mother, rushing down a corridor, asking this and that fighter if they'd seen Remus, had anyone seen Remus? And this time he followed her. And watched. Again.

The fourth time he was there and waiting.

In the end it was Penelope who found him, watching again, one quiet day two weeks after their examination of the Battle of Hogwarts had begun. Worried about the downturn in the quality of his work, she'd followed him.

He was not at all surprised to find Harry Potter waiting for him on his doorstep when he got home. The Weasley grapevine was the fastest growing he'd ever encountered.

The talk he'd had with his godfather had been long and excruciating. Harry had sat him down with a glass of butterbeer and a bar of Honeydukes Best and told him about his own struggles to cope with the loss of his parents, about his temptation before something called the Mirror of Erised, about the struggle he faced in the Patronus lessons with Teddy's father between blocking out the horrors and a simple desperation to hear their voices. Teddy had nodding gamely and accepted his understanding.

But he didn't know. He couldn't know. Harry had always known there was no chance, no hope of seeing his parents again. He'd never had to wonder if they could still be saved.

Teddy no longer had that luxury.

For while Teddy had watched and watched and watched again, he'd also been thinking.

He couldn't change the history of then, he knew that now. That'd been a pipe dream all along for he knew more than most about the way the laws of time worked and he knew that any changes he made then would already be real in the now. Time was all one piece. If it hadn't happened, it couldn't happen, because if it had changed, he'd never have known it to be any different. No. He couldn't change the past.

But what about the present?

As long as everyone at the time still thought they had died in the battle, if they had indeed been nowhere to be found for twenty years…

Then why not bring them back with him to now?

He watched and he'd watched. And again and again, he'd seen that odd flicker, that shimmer just before the curse struck, just before they died. He had no explanation for it. No explanation unless…

It hadn't happened yet. Unless it was something _he_ was going to do. Something he was meant to do.

Like breaking the field? Like grabbing them and pulling them through the Portal a moment before they died? Like finding some way to leave behind two corpses in their place so history would still be as it should?

It wouldn't be easy. But it wasn't impossible either.

And then it was then that Teddy knew that he was really, truly going to do it.

He was going to save his parents' lives.


	2. Promises

**A/N:** Many thanks to everyone who reviewed:) It's nice to know I'm not the only one out there who wants to see Remus and Tonks get a rather better ending:) I probably won't be updating this rapidly again since I'm writing this blighter as and when I can find the time and my schedule isn't as generous in that regard as it could be anymore. Also thanks must go to my Merry Band of Plotting Assistants again, especially to **aftertherain **for suggesting the use of Felix Felicis when I plaintively asked how in the heck I was supposed to have Teddy pull off all these amazing tricks at once without making it seem unrealistic…:)

_**1: Promises**_

It was times like this, Teddy mused to himself, when he could definitely use a visit from Ron Weasley. He _really_ needed some choicer swearwords.

The theory behind his plan was sound. He was sure of it. But the timing of it, the execution…

Bloody hell. He'd need to be Harry. He'd need to be _God_.

He knew exactly what to do. He knew exactly how to do it. He just didn't know if he _could_.

Picking up his messy pile of scribbled notes, Teddy slumped back against arm of the settee and gazed absently at the mantelpiece for a moment, allowing himself a soft, almost apologetic smile at the picture of his parents that lived there. It was their wedding day, his mother dressed in white dress robes topped by vivid pink curls beaming gloriously in spite of the large pink wine stain she'd managed to provide for herself down one arm. His father was also smiling broadly, if a little disbelievingly at his newly acquired wife, dressed in old fashioned gold trimmed robes that Gran had once told him had been borrowed from Minister Shacklebolt back in the days when he was plain old Auror Kingsley. Every so often, the two figures in the picture would turn, link arms and share a brief, gentle kiss.

Teddy closed his eyes. Well. If God was what they needed, he'd just have to try and provide. Because he couldn't go back now.

He'd promised them.

Before that, somehow, he'd felt as though he could still back away from his impulsive, emotive decision to break every rule that surrounded his career. And perhaps, given time, he would have taken that step back, accepted the truth that they were gone and simply let it go. Perhaps.

If Harry and Penelope had not decided to be kind.

They'd thought he was brooding. When he'd turned down Harry and Ginny's dinner invitations one too many times in order to thrash out his theory by working late in the Unspeakable Library, they'd come to him before work one day full of gentle reassurances and undisguised concern. When Penny had noted his work turnover had remained below average since his encounter with his parents, she'd suggested seeing a St Mungo's grief councillor, not realising that his delays were caused by experimentation in the realm of the past; seeing exactly how far he could morph before he could feel from the taut hum against his ears and the grasping tightness around his body told him that the field of passiveness was a frayed thread away from tearing. He never pushed that one step further – he was sure that the Portal would detect an actually broken field and that would probably be the end of his access to the only means he had to save his parents' lives – but at those time of greatest pressure, he was certain that when he brushed his fingers against the parts of the past all around him, a flower, a wall, a box on a mantle, they did not pass through like smoke as they always had but tickled, just slightly, remotely tingling against his skin.

It was exhilarating. It was terrifying.

He could break the absolute law. He could touch the past.

You do not touch. You do not change. You do not interfere.

He could.

But would he have tried to go that final, enormous, irrevocable step that a fingertip's flex would invoke? Would his fear of the consequences have overcome his grief in the end?

Maybe. Maybe not.

But that was irrelevant. It became irrelevant on the day that Harry and Penelope had come here to see him, visited him in the home that had once belonged to his father's family but had now fallen to him and offered him what they thought would be comfort.

Access to the Portal. Private access for up to three hours on weeknights, for as long as he needed it. Why?

To watch his parents. But not to watch them die. To watch them _live_.

Harry, bless him, had compiled a list as best he could from friends and acquaintances and his own past. The dates and locations of important moments in his parents lives; times when they were happy, times when they were sad, times when they were _people_ just living their lives. Get to know them, Harry had told him. See them as more than a pair of corpses tumbling from the battlements. He hoped it would help.

It had. But not in the way Harry had hoped.

He'd watched his father playing here in this very house as a lonely, isolated child, watched him blossom at Hogwarts in the company of a group of loyal and playful friends. He'd watched his mother, her hair ever changing just as his was, toddle into chairs and fall with a splat over rugs in the house where he had been raised as his Gran, looking young, so young, scooped her up and kissed her bruised knees away with laughter. He'd seen his father's joy in his work at Hogwarts, his mother's elation at passing her Auror exams. And then he'd seen them meet.

There had been no fanfare, no fireworks. A simple meeting of the Order of the Phoenix at Grimmauld Place. His mother, endearingly worried, had brought a prank gift of hair tonic for her dishevelled ex-convict cousin. And that cousin's quiet friend had reassured her, caught her when she stumbled and laughed with her until her awkwardness and nerves subsided. And that most frightening of words – werewolf – entered the conversation, he'd seen his mother take an instinctive step back, seen his father's expression tighten but then he'd seen glowering in his mother's face a determination that it took a moment to understand. And then she made a joke about it, he laughed along with her and they were talking again, laughing again, relaxing again and by the end of the evening, they had crouched side by side fighting hysteria as they used the hair tonic to give the large black dog that Sirius Black had become a quite emphatic quiff.

She'd been bothered, he could tell, that his father was a werewolf. She just hadn't let it get in the way of getting to know him. Of liking him.

And later, of loving him.

He was getting to know them, just as Harry had wanted. And the more he watched, the more he cared.

He lingered now, beyond the time and dates that Harry had given, speculating, exploring their lives at Grimmauld Place, just seeing how they lived day by day. He saw them laughing and joking with their fellow Order members, saw them staying up to joke and mess around with Sirius Black late into the night. He saw the lingering looks they cast almost unconsciously towards each other, saw the way each other's company made them come alive as they did with no one else. He saw them confiding in each other, drawing in trust, sharing with each other what they shared with no one else.

He saw their first kiss.

His father had been so unsure of himself, of it all, of whether what they were doing was really the best idea. But his mother, oh, she had been _so _determined. Their feelings, their relationship, tentative at first but undeniable nonetheless, had blossomed, grown and engulfed them both completely.

And once a few months had passed for them, the number of times Teddy had to politely retreat and give them their privacy when they were left alone increased out of all control. There were certain things no son should _ever_ have to witness.

But the joy did not last.

He saw them close up Grimmauld Place, both sorrowful, both grieving at the death of a much-loved cousin and friend. He could see even then that his father was pulling away. He knew they had spent the next year apart, that his father had tried to spare his mother from a life caught in the shadow of his lycanthropy, but no one knew the wheres and whys of their relationship in those troubled times. That secret was lost to their memories alone. Reluctantly, Teddy had abandoned his free ranging and turned back to the notes.

The Hogwarts Hospital Wing. He tailed them outside after their unexpected confrontation, watched them sit quietly together by the lake as his father softly, quietly, willingly gave in. He went to their wedding next, stepping inside the photo on his mantelpiece and learned that the wine stain had been his father's fault (kissing his mother's neck from behind while she was holding a full wine glass was apparently not a good idea). They had come back to the house that was now his, the house left to him in his parents will and moved into when he'd finished Hogwarts, and caught in their moment, had whisked each other upstairs. Teddy had discreetly departed. It was around the right time in July and Teddy could most definitely count. _No one_ should have to bear witness to his own _conception_.

He'd moved on. He'd seen the mingled look of horror and joy, disbelief and terror on his father's face when she'd broken the news of her pregnancy. He'd seen his father start to lose himself and flee as he faced the death threats and redundancy his wife was suffering after her marriage to him, the stigma she faced from the pregnancy, and shouldered too much unnecessary blame for him to stand. He witnessed the forceful slap his mother had inflicted on his father after he had returned and watched as he placed his hand upon her abdomen and swore on their child's life – on _Teddy_ – that he would never leave them like that again. He saw them together again as the pregnancy progressed, happy in spite of the world that was falling to pieces around them.

He saw his own birth.

It was messy. And…_ow_. It made him glad he wasn't a woman. And the Healer had said that his mother being a Metamorphmagus had made it easier too.

If that was _easy_… Blimey.

But it had been the moment after, his father wearing the same look of disbelieving joy he'd seen at the wedding, his mother beaming in spite of her exhaustion as they sat side by side on the bed, cuddling their baby, cuddling _him_… And though he knew he couldn't have any memory of it, he could almost feel their touch, their love, the press of his mother's lips against his forehead, the stroke of his father's hand through his slowly lightening hair…

It was then he'd known.

He loved them.

He'd never known them. But he'd watched them. And the love had crept upon him so gradually, he'd barely realised it was there until now.

They were his _parents_. And they'd loved him too, he could see it, he could _feel_ it…

He had to save them. He _had_ to.

He had known they couldn't hear him. He hadn't cared.

"Mum," he said softly, addressing the two figures snuggled together with their baby on the bed. "Dad. I'm going to save you. I'm going to give you the life you should have had." He took a deep, determined breath. "I _promise_."

And that was how Teddy Lupin had come to be sitting on the settee of his… his parents… his _family _home, grasping a sheath full of notes and desperately needing to be a hero, a God, or the luckiest man alive.

He'd got it all worked out. Breaking history had been his first concern, for he knew in order to keep things as they should, there had to bodies for people to find. Harry, he knew, had seen them dead. So had many others. They'd been buried three days later at Godrics Hollow. So there were corpses to be found.

But how?

He had doubted at first. Maybe they really were dead. Maybe he had tried and failed. Maybe the corpses buried in those graves truly did belong to Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks.

But then he had listened to old Bert Croaker.

Albert Croaker was one of the longest serving Unspeakables in the Department and he loved to tell stories. Teddy had always found it a bit of an irony that such a garrulous chap should work in the most secretive part of the Ministry of Magic in a job he was forbidden to talk about beyond the Department itself but that had never hindered Bert for he talked to his colleagues instead, sharing stories of this or that experiment, a rare discovery, the unusual use of a charm or a potion, the subversion of magic and creation of new truth. The Historical Records section had been his dream come true – now at last, everyone wanted him to talk about and share what he saw. And as Teddy had settled at his desk in the office shared by his section one afternoon, compiling his notes from that morning's expedition to the Death Eater display at the 1994 Quidditch World Cup, Bert had strode in with a massive grin on his face and declared to the world at large, "I knew it!"

"Knew what?" Dennis Creevey had been rather more subdued than usual since returning from his holiday but nonetheless he grinned at Bert as he offered him a cup of coffee from the self-warming pot in one corner.

"Cornelius Fudge." Bert took a cheery swig of coffee before depositing himself on the edge of Teddy's mahogany desk. "Faked his death, didn't he?"

Teddy stared and he wasn't alone. Exclamations of surprise rose from all corners of the room.

"Never!" The exclamation came from Rose Zeller, a friendly, auburn-haired witch in her early thirties who had taken Teddy under her wing when he had joined the Department as an apprentice straight out of school. "_How_? I mean he fell dead out of the Floo on his way to the corruption hearing didn't he? Most of the Ministry saw his body! There were pictures in the Prophet!"

"Wasn't his body, was it?" Bert was wearing the unmistakable smile of a man who had news to share and knew everyone would want to hear it. "Replication charm. One quick _Geminio_ and he'd made himself a fake corpse and shoved it in the fireplace. Then he downed some Polyjuice and hopped a Portkey to South America. He's probably still there."

There were more gasps and exclamations of shock and disgust.

"No!"

"You're joking!"

"That filthy weasel!"

"How'd he get away with that?" Teddy heard his own voice cut through the disbelief almost without recognising it. His mind was suddenly spinning. _Could this be it, what he needed, could this be…?_ "I mean, couldn't anyone tell it wasn't really him?"

Bert glanced over his shoulder, smiling fondly at the currently purple haired young man upon whose desk he was resting. Teddy sometimes found it a little irritating the way the older members of the Division tended to look and treat him like a twelve-year-old nephew they had adopted into their work place, particularly the ones that had known his parents. But if playing up to it got him answers, this was one time that the attitude might be bearable.

He smiled with as much fake but innocent sincerity as he could muster and, wincing with disgust within himself, added a hint of rosyness to his cheeks. Bert beamed at him fondly.

"Ah, young Lupin!" he proclaimed, slapping one hand down on Teddy's shoulder in a chummy fashion. "That's the Replication charm for you. Cast it on something and you've made yourself a perfect copy of whatever it is you've just touched. Oh that copy won't last forever and it won't be as pure or carry any magic cast upon it but it'll do for tricking someone in the short term. But cast it on a person…" He sucked his teeth. "You get a copy of that person, a perfect physical copy, right down to the spots on their brow or the frays in their robes. But it'll be lifeless. You can't copy a soul." He shook his head. "And the Replication charm doesn't react well to that. The copy should be perfect but it isn't. It can't be. And so after about a week or so, the copy will dissolve, break down, until you've nothing more than a handful of dust." He shook his head. "No wonder Mrs Fudge was so adamant that we get him in the ground so quick. Didn't want to blow his cover, did she? And then of course, when she moved to Rio to _get away from all the memories_…" He snorted loudly with disdain.

"Portly git." Dennis proclaimed with feeling and was met with nods of agreement from all around the room. "He'd probably have only got a few months in Azkaban for being a corrupt idiot with a power complex but now he'll be up for perverting the course of justice too. And after all that blather about promising to face his fate with fortitude. If he hadn't been so determined to hide the truth about You-Know-Who…"

"Lord Voldemort." Lucy Brightwell, a blonde witch in her twenties, intervened. It was a running quarrel between the younger and older members of most of the wizarding world about which name exactly it was appropriate to use for a long dead enemy.

"Whatever." Dennis waved the old argument away. "I assume you've shopped him Bert?"

"Sent Rajesh up to Hermione Weasley with a report straight away. I reckon a couple of Aurors may be off to Brazil on a Fudge-hunting expedition in the not too distant. May need to dose them with some Felix Felicis though, it's a big country. Maybe we should send some up from the lab, eh?"

The others had gathered round Bert, clapping him on the shoulder and congratulating him on this belated piece of justice, but by then Teddy hadn't been listening. The Replication charm… A perfect but lifeless copy that lasted a week before dissolving… And his parents had been buried after only three days…

The plan had come together after that. He could not take his wand through the Portal to cast the spell himself for the Portal would not permit anyone to enter the past with a wand or any magical alterations to their person; he still remembered the day Lucy had come in with her hair intricately charmed in place for a date after work and had emerged furious from the Portal when the magic of the gate had undone every last securing charm. But there would be wands available to him on the other side, wouldn't there? His parents had both been holding them…

So that was it. Still settled on the settee, Teddy crinkled his scribbled notes in his hands. All he had to do was enter the past, position himself exactly where his parents were going to die, morph until he broke the field of passiveness, reach out, grab a wand from his parents and pray it worked for him, cast _Geminio _on both of them and then grab hold of them as he activated his amulet in order to return himself through the Portal to the present.

Not much to go wrong there then…

Harry. God. Luckiest man alive.

None of these was he.

Unless…

Wait…

Bert Croaker slouched against his desk, laughing as he received his plaudits for uncovering the cowardice of Fudge. _…a couple of Aurors may be off to Brazil on a Fudge-hunting expedition in the not too distant. May need to dose them with some Felix Felicis though, it's a big country. Maybe we should send some up from the lab, eh?_

Felix Felicis.

_Felix Felicis._

_Luckiest man alive_.

And they had some in the Department's potions lab. Bert had said so. And Bert would know, Bert talked to everyone, found out everything…

If he could get his hands on one vial, just one…

Then he could do it. He could do it now. He could do it _tonight_…

Any weeknight, Penny had said, any weeknight he could use the Portal. He'd gone home and come back before now. No one would question his presence…

Teddy breathed deeply, his eyes drifting to that picture on the mantle, his mind rushing through all he had seen of their life. He could do this. Tonight, he could do this.

Was he ready?

He stared at the picture. Smiling, his parents kissed.

Yes. He was.

Dumping his notes back on the table, Teddy pulled himself to his feet and took a deep, steadying breath.

"Pull yourself together, Lupin," he scolded himself firmly. "This is it."

He felt strangely removed from his hand as it reached into the pot over the mantle, grabbed a handful of green powder and hurled it into the fire. Emerald flames leapt high and strong.

And Teddy stepped inside.

"Ministry of Magic!"

And then with a whoosh, he was gone.

No going back.

"Teddy! _Teddy Lupin_!"

Victoire Weasley was not in the best of moods.

He'd promised her. He'd _promised_. He'd smiled and assured her that yes, of course he would come over to her parents' house on Monday night, he would be waiting right there as soon as she and her parents got back from their week long Congratulations-On-Graduating-From-Hogwarts trip to see Grandmere and Grandpere in France. And though she'd thought he looked a little pale as he met her briefly off the Hogwarts Express, though she'd been a little concerned about the vague tone his letters had taken in the last month or two and the odd looks her parents and Weasley relatives had exchanged whenever his name was mentioned, she'd never for a moment disbelieved him.

Until he'd failed to show up. He hadn't been waiting. He hadn't come.

Her papa had tried to tell her that he knew Teddy had a lot on his mind right now, though it wasn't his place to explain precisely what. But to Victoire, there was no excuse. He'd promised. And he hadn't done it.

And so, brushing her father aside, she'd grabbed a handful of Floo powder and headed straight over to his house.

He wasn't in the lounge. Glowering furiously, Victoire bellowed his name again, storming into the kitchen and then the old study before hurtling upstairs. By the time she returned, still boyfriend-less to the hall, her temper had been waning and by the time she'd stepped outside to assure herself he wasn't in the garden, she had begun to get slightly concerned. Where was he?

Maybe he was working late or had had to go to his Gran's for some reason. But then, couldn't he have called and let her know? For a moment, the fleeting, horrible thought crossed her mind that he could be out, out on the town with another girl, a girl he liked better than…

No_. No_. Teddy wasn't like that. She knew him. He _wasn't_.

And he wouldn't have broken his promise without good reason either.

A lot on his mind, Papa had said. But what? What was distracting enough to make him forget a solemn promise he'd made to his girlfriend?

Well, he wasn't here. And neither was the answer. But she needed to hear from him, she needed to know…

A note. She'd leave a note. After all, he'd have to come back sooner or later.

A pile of scribbled on, scruffy paper lay crumpled on the table by the settee. Scrap then. Maybe if she could just find a blank piece…

Victoire lifted the papers. And froze.

For a few moments, she could only stare, her eyes drinking in the words not believing, not comprehending. Then slowly, disbelievingly, her eyes lifted and fixed upon the framed picture over the fireplace.

His parents.

Teddy was going to…

"Oh Teddy," Victoire heard herself whisper. "Teddy, you idiot, they'll throw away the key…"

She had to stop him. She had to tell someone, she had to find a way…

Yes. _Yes. He'd_ know what to do.

Stumbling forward, the notes still grasped in her disbelieving hands, Victoire grabbed a handful of Floo powder and hurled it into the fire.

"Number Twelve Grimmauld Place!"


	3. Making Luck

**A/N**: Thanks again to everyone who kindly reviewed. I know someone asked me how long this fic was going to be to which I answer - not a clue! I've made a plot plan but it's not chapter by chapter; I'm writing on spec and seeing where I end up. I'm not expecting a novel length monster like Oblivious or Imperius (I hope!) but it'll probably be more than a dozen chapters on current form. Thanks again to my Merry Band of behind the scenes plot helpers, especially _**snorkackcatcher**_ who has kindly volunteered to act as my beta reader. Please enjoy:)

Oh and I know I forgot the disclaimer on the first couple of chapters - obviously, I own nothing. This is JKR's mansion and I am merely squatting in her attic and fiddling with her stuff...;p

_**2: Making Luck**_

Luck, it seemed, had backhanded Teddy a little advance. The potions lab was deserted.

Getting into the Ministry had been no problem. Eric the Watch Wizard was so used to his evening comings and goings by now that he'd barely glanced up from packing away his wand-weighing equipment for the night and waved him absently through with a brief admonishment to lock up when he was done. He'd met Penny in the ninth floor corridor bustling home after working late on a report, but she'd obviously been too preoccupied in getting home to her family to comment on his presence and simply offered an understanding smile and a gentle _goodnight_. And apart from a brief glimpse of Edgar Fortescue, the deputy head of the Unspeakables, turning off the stars in the universe room, he saw no one else as he wove his way through the Department of Mysteries and into the experimental potions lab.

Hurdle number one had been successfully cleared. But herein lay Hurdle number two.

Where in the heck was the Felix Felicis kept?

Cauldrons bubbled and stewed unattended over self-fuelling flames ranging from big, imposing and belching steam to tiny, tinkling and misty-wreathed. To his right lay a counter that was covered in scribbled scrolls, chopping knives, empty vials, a decanter that looked as though it was filled with molten gold and a leather-bound green tome propped against a reading stand. The wall opposite him was lined with shelves filled with a plethora of potion ingredients; ugly looking plants in hues ranging from sludge green to vivid purple, strange glittering crystals that glinted in the faded light, the lifeless petrified remains of this or that piece of insect life and jars full of eyeballs in murky syrup that he could have sworn were following him as he stepped into the entrance of the room. And to his left, more shelves, this time filled with numbered vials in their hundreds, no, their _thousands_, stretching from floor to ceiling, wall to wall and several vials deep, each containing liquid of a different colour and consistency, some bubbling cheerfully within themselves or swirling almost like bottled mist, others gloopy, sludge-like and thick or quietly vibrating to themselves.

Teddy could feel his heart sinking in the general direction of his knees. His advance had just run out. He could see even from where he was standing that the potions were in no kind of order that he was familiar with. It was going to take him _hours_ to search through this lot.

If only he could remember what Felix Felicis _looked_ like. He had never precisely been bad at Potions, but it'd certainly not been his forte either and he'd only taken it as far as NEWT level because he'd had some vague idea about trying out to be an Auror like Harry and his mother, until a Coming-of-Age trip into a Pensieve and a fascinating Easter visit discussion with Penny about the newly completed Portal had turned his ambitions in other directions. By the time they'd reached a lesson that included mention of Felix Felicis towards the end of his sixth year, he'd been on the verge of dropping the subject altogether in favour of History of Magic and hadn't really been paying much attention.

Which was a bit of a bugger, under the circumstances.

There was the summoning spell, he supposed. But if his _accio _called one of the vials at the back of the shelves, it would send those before it flying and probably fling them to the ground with a smash. Edgar would come running at the noise and how was he supposed to explain what he was doing?

_Sorry, sir. I was summoning a potion I'm not supposed to touch without about fifty different kinds of permission to make sure that my attempt to illegally rescue my dead parents from the past was successful…_

That'd go down a storm.

No, he would have to search by hand. Alas.

_Something, anything, even just remembering the colour would narrow it down_…

"You all right there? Lupin, isn't it?"

Teddy jumped about a foot at the touch of fingers against his arm and half-wheeled in shock. Edgar Fortescue was smiling over his shoulder.

"I assume you're here late to use the Portal." Edgar's eyes filled with the inevitable whisper of sympathy. "Penelope told me she given you… special dispensation. Sorry if I startled you, I was just checking around before I lock up. I thought I was the last one here."

Fortunately for Teddy, the one detention-evading talent he had always been ecstatic to possess was the ability to think on his feet.

"Yeah, me too," he replied with a smile and a shrug that was as offhand as he could make it considering the speed at which his heart was racing. "I was on my way to the Portal room and saw the light on. I came down to check but as you can see, there's no one here but us."

Edgar was smiling as he shook his head. "Don't worry. Elijah Whistler never remembers to turn the light off in here so I always nip down to check before I go. I swear he's inhaled over one too many cauldrons sometimes."

"It…er…it looks like it." Teddy gestured to the higgledy-piggledy mass of vials of the shelves before them. "I know we shouldn't criticise our colleagues and all but…"

"But those shelves look like the most pointless, chaotic mess you've ever seen?" Edgar laughed jovially. "Elijah is trying to test, catalogue and create a sample of every potion recorded in wizarding history. Not much of a job, huh?" He chuckled and Teddy, starting to relax now chuckled with him. "I asked him to explain how he finds anything once and he told me he's got a system. He gives them a code to do with their ingredients and effects and records them all in his catalogue." He gestured to the heavily bound leather book Teddy had noticed earlier. "Though sometimes I do wonder whether he remembers to record them all …" Edgar's voice broke off abruptly, his eyes suddenly fixed on the counter beside the book. "Oh, for goodness sake," he declared with a certain air of weariness. "Not _again_. I told him to lock that away as soon as Auror Woodvine left. That man has smoked all of his brains straight out of his ears…"

Brushing past Teddy, he moved over to the counter and lifted the decanter full of golden liquid from the table even as a chorus of alarm bells sounded in Teddy's mind. He'd seen Auror Woodvine in the atrium on Friday talking to Harry about conditions in Brazil and though Bert Croaker had joked about it, Teddy knew that Felix Felicis might be approved for a case as significant as this…

_A little cauldron bubbling away in the Potions dungeon as he entered, his mind on the catch-up reading for History of Magic he'd need to do if he was to get permission to swap. A little cauldron full of gold…_

That was it. That was _it_.

It'd been right there in front of him. And Edgar Fortescue was about to lock it away out of reach all because he had a memory like a bloody flobberworm and didn't recognise what was staring him smack in the face…

He had to do something. Now.

But what could he…

Yes.

His fingers curled around his wand as Fortescue turned, moving towards the heavily padlocked cupboard in the corner. One flick, a quick non-verbal and…

The small bubbling cauldron to Fortescue's left lurched on its stand, hiccupped slightly and then slumped reluctantly sideways, emptying its contents all over Fortescue's shoes.

"Ack! Curses! Bloody…" Swearing fluently, Fortescue jumped out of the puddle and stared with a mixture of incredulity and shock as his shoes and robe hem began to grow_ teeth_. "What in the…"

"Wash it off!" Teddy darted forward and grabbed the decanter from Fortescue's teetering grasp as he gestured frantically towards a heavy sink in the far corner. "Wash it off, quick!"

Edgar didn't need telling twice. Even as he rushed off, Teddy span, grabbing an empty vial from the counter as he yanked open the neck of the decanter. _Don't let him turn around, don't let him see me, please, please, please_… He could hear splashes and more swearing behind him as he tipped out a dose of the golden potion, which remarkably didn't spill in spite of how clumsily he'd poured it, closed the decanter and shoved the vial into his robes.

He was only just in time.

Edgar Fortescue returned, wiping down his trousers with a grimace. There was still a hint of ivory around his shoelaces.

"Damned clumsy of me, knocking that cauldron," he muttered, righting the offending item and the remains of its contents with a frown as Teddy stepped forward and offered him the decanter back. "Thanks for grabbing that, Lupin. There would have been hell to pay if it got smashed and it was hard to remember that when those damned things were biting my ruddy toenails." Accepting it carefully, he smiled. "Why don't you get up to the Portal room now? I've held you up long enough with my blather. I'll lock up the rest of the Department so just give the doors a rotate when you leave, won't you?"

Teddy nodded, his mind spinning, hardly able to believe he had just got away with blatant theft of a restricted potion under the nose of his deputy department head.

"Thanks, sir. Goodnight."

"Goodnight Lupin."

He could feel the cold shape of the vial in his pocket as he moved down the corridor away from Fortescue and the sound of padlocks clanking. Maybe, just maybe, he didn't need Felix Felicis to be bloody lucky.

But all the same, he was glad he wasn't taking any chances.

---------------------

Number Twelve Grimmauld Place was quiet. Abnormally so.

It really was quite disconcerting.

Harry Potter wasn't used to quiet. By day, in his job as Head of the Auror Office, he was used to the hustle and bustle of his colleagues, the investigations in the field of this or that act of dark magic, the shouts of discovery or irritable mutterings in the office that told of uncovered clues or old ladies wasting their times with claims that Voldemort's ghost had possessed their cat. Out of the street, he was recognised at every turn. And by night, he was a father of three children with Weasley blood in their veins and in receipt of frequent visits from their cousins, his friends and his godson. Oh and he also shared his house with three owls, two kneazles and a very old pygmy puff called Arnold.

No. Harry Potter was not used to quiet.

Especially not in the school holidays.

But Ginny had taken the children and both kneazles, if not the owls and the very old pygmy puff with her to watch her old team the Holyhead Harpies play the Chudley Cannons so that Harry could finally finish some long overdue paperwork in peace and now the house lay still. And it felt so _wrong_, even worse that chaos, more irritating, more distracting than the constant noise and chatter to which he had become accustomed. He wasn't used to working in quiet anymore. For a moment, he had even caught himself staring at the ceiling and contemplating removing a couple of the carefully charmed muffling bricks in the wall they'd built to cover the redoubtable portrait of Sirius' mother, just to hear a few of her charmingly irate screams and wails to break the quietude. The thought made him almost nostalgic.

Harry smiled ruefully to himself. He'd always known he wasn't destined for a quiet life. But still…

Paperwork.

Paperwork.

_Come on now_…

He set his quill to the paper…

And heard the rush of the Floo in the kitchen below, the sudden tramp of footsteps on the stone steps and a voice, a voice calling…

"Uncle Harry? Are you here? _Uncle Harry_!"

_What the…?_

"Victoire?" Rising from his desk, Harry moved towards the door of his study, pulling the door open to be met by a rush of blonde hair and wide, anxious eyes. "Aren't you supposed to be in France?"

"We just got back." Victoire waved the question away as she brushed past Harry into the room, her white knuckled hands clutching a messy cluster of crumpled papers as she wheeled away from him and began to pace frantically around the room. "And he'd said he'd meet me straight away, he _promised,_ but he wasn't there and so I went over to his house to find him, to find out why he broke his promise but he wasn't there and Uncle Harry, I swear I never meant to read them, I was just looking for a piece of paper to write on but I found these on his table and Uncle Harry, _look_!" She thrust the wodge of papers into his face. "Look what he's going to _do_!"

Still reeling slightly from the quick fire barrage of words, Harry took the papers tentatively from Victoire's grasp and glanced down. It was only when he recognised Teddy's handwriting that things began to slot into place. And when he read the words…

_Need to double check precise date and time of death/flicker… neither mum or dad's wands found in past so could grab either to use for Geminio… practice Geminio first maybe to ensure good quality fake corpse? …must time breaking of passivity field in Portal exactly to minimise intrusion into past… must get firm grip on both mum and dad and pull both through Portal together_…

Harry didn't know the full details of Teddy's work. But he knew enough to see where this was going.

_He can't… He can't be serious! Those trips back were supposed to set his mind at rest not…_

_Oh bloody hell, Teddy!_

His heart lurched. He had to stop him. He knew that. He had to. Playing with time like this would get him arrested, get him locked up for life…

But.

What if it worked?

What if he really _could_ save Lupin and Tonks?

What if…

Violently, sharply, he forced the thought, the tiny, flickering glimmer of long forgotten hope away. _No. NO. They're dead. Lupin came to you in the forest, remember? It's not going to work and I can't let Teddy wreck his life over it._

_I owe him too much. I owe his parents too much._

_They'd never forgive you if you let their son ruin his life over their memory. You know that._

_You know it. _

_You have to stop him._

"Uncle Harry?" He'd almost forgotten Victoire was there. She stared at him now, her eyes wide and frightened. "Uncle Harry, what are we going to do?"

Fighting to control the ice cold fear that was welling up in his chest, Harry laid a hand gently against his niece's shoulder and forced himself to smile.

"Thanks for bringing this to me, Victoire," he said with an air of fake calm he was sure even Lupin would have been proud of. "I know Teddy saw his parents' deaths recently while he was working…" Victoire's gasp of horror told him that this was not something his godson had chosen to confide in his girlfriend about, "…and he's been dwelling on it more than he should. I don't think he seriously plans to go through with this but just in case, I'll have a word with him. You go on home. I'll tell him to call you when I find him."

It was a lie. Harry's brain was screaming at him to find Teddy, find him now, stop him before he did anything stupid, but there was no point in traumatising the boy's girlfriend in the process. As he'd expected, Victoire offered up a vigorous protest at being bundled out of the way, but eventually, somehow, Harry succeeded in getting her down the stairs, into the fireplace and, after receiving one last very-Fleurish glare of mingled concern and annoyance, sent her home to her parents.

And the moment she was clear, Harry rushed to follow.

Teddy wasn't home. Victoire had said so. But if he really meant to try and go through with this madness, there was only one place to go that really mattered.

He had to get to the Department of Mysteries. Now.

Floo powder flared emerald. Harry stepped into the roaring flames.

"Ministry of Magic!"

------------------------

Well. This was it.

Teddy stared into the Portal. He tried to evade the feeling that it was staring back.

He had waited until he was sure that Edgar Fortescue had left completely before he'd worked up the courage to step forwards into the Portal room, to secure his amulet in place in the leather holster that wrapped around his wrist, to reach up and readjust the tiny range of hourglasses that ran along the Portal's right hand edge one after another, from century, to decade, to year, to month, to day, to hour, to minute, to second until he knew, he was certain that he would emerge half a minute before his parents were due to die. He set the location next against the map imbedded into the left hand upright, zooming in more deeply at each request; Scotland, Highlands, Hogwarts, North Battlements, eastern end…

All set. All ready.

And now all that was left was…

He reached up, his hand touching against the smooth glass of the largest hourglass set firmly at the highest point of the Portal's gentle arch. He took a deep breath.

And then with a shove, he set it in motion.

Slowly at first, but then quicker, quicker, ever quicker, the hourglass turned over and over and over until it was nothing more than a glassy, silvery blur that almost seemed to hum as it hurtled round and round and round. Light and shade, colour and shape flickered in the Portal's maw as it raced backwards through time, through space to the location he had chosen, to the time, to the place where he was going to save his parents lives.

Was he ready?

He looked down. A vial filled with molten gold glittered between his fingers.

In one swig, he swallowed the contents whole.

He was now.

The Portal slowed, calmed, settling, solidifying, until the familiar, flickering curtain of dark red light rippled into place to announce to any that knew its ways that the Portal was connected to the moment chosen. The instant he stepped through, the instant he broke that wall of light, history would begin before his eyes.

You do not touch. You do not change. You do not interfere. We watch only.

Not this time.

Not if he had his way.

He could feel the Felix Felicis working through his body, calming him, relaxing him, filling him with confidence. He was going to do this. It would be easy.

He was going to save their lives.

It was time.

Shoulders squared and jaw set, Teddy Lupin crossed the threshold and stepped into the past.


	4. For Better or Worse

**A/N: **Thank you to everyone who kindly reviewed and I'm glad you're enjoying the story.Thanks also go as always to my beta reader Snorkackcatcher and my Merry Band of Behind the Scenes Helpers, several of whom helped me thrash out the ways and means of the Portal and ways to incorporate various canon that might have otherwise proved tricky...;) I had originally planned to continue writing this chapter from Teddy's pov but I discovered in this attempt that it's very hard to create excitement and risk of failure into a chapter written from the pov of someone chilled on Felix Felicis when everyone reading knows his plan already. So I decided instead to take this and the next few from the pov of someone who hadn't a clue what was going on instead. Plus it also gave me the chance to make reference to JKR's chat statement about Bellatrix and Tonks and offer and explanation as to why this might have been wildly believed...:)

_**3: For Better or Worse**_

**Twenty years earlier…**

"_Avada Kedavra_!"

The killing curse missed her by less than an inch.

Tonks felt rather than saw its passing, a skim against the loose sleeve of her hastily donned Auror robes, a fatal whisper and a hint of deadly green that tore the air and spoke fluently of barely evaded death. Even as she tumbled, immobilized and helpless, the victim of a stray Impediment Jinx between the shoulder-blades mere moments before, she knew that she had escaped death by less than the width of her finger. For that stray jinx had just saved her life.

But dear Auntie Bellatrix had apparently not noticed.

She heard a scream of triumph, a victorious shout, and caught words and phrases of a screeching, fanatical tirade from her mother's barking sister not dissimilar in style to the late, unlamented Walburga Black. It took Tonks a moment to realize that these words were being screamed at what Bellatrix believed was her _corpse_.

"This is the price of filthy blood, Andromeda, death, _death_ is the price! This is what you and your brat get for consorting with Muggles and mudbloods and disgracing the name of the noble House of Black! And this is what you get, _little girl_, for dallying with a _filthy werewolf_! And he'll be right there alongside you the moment I cross his path…"

_Remus._

No_. Don't move. If you move, she'll know you aren't dead and you're hardly in a position to stop her rectifying that…_

The litany of abuse came thick and fast now, insults about her mother, about her father (_oh god, shut up, shut up about dad)_ and how she'd made him pay, (_you're dead, stay dead, don't rise, don't rise..._) how she'd make Remus pay too and the foul-blooded inhuman brat they'd spawned…

_Teddy. Gods, she knows about Teddy_…

_Don't move. Don't shake. Don't scream. Think dead._

It was the hardest thing she'd ever done.

_Move on, you foul bitch, I'm dead, you can't hurt me, get the message? Stop gloating and go find someone else to hurl crap at_…

"And now my family honour is restored and you can rot away…_Ah_!"

It seemed Bellatrix was paying for her extensive gloating for then Tonks heard another voice, the familiar voice of Bill Weasley bellow a curse, heard her aunt's screeching cries turned in another direction and at last the harridan was swept away into the battle once more and finally left her alone.

_Bitch. Bitch, bitch, bitch_… _She's probably out there now boasting to Bill about how she's just killed me._

_I need to get up, I need to move, I need to find Remus, I need to help, to fight again…_

The Impediment Jinx bound her arms and legs, but at least now she could open her eyes. She could see the damaged walls of the courtyard, before which danced half-glimpses and shadows of fighting figures just out of sight, the whine of spells, screams of pain and the echo of distant detonations. The battle continued to rage without her.

Well she wasn't dead yet. That was a bonus.

But it didn't change the fact that she still couldn't bloody well _move._

She'd been doing all right too, in spite of her achy, protesting, post-natal body, taking down Rookwood with a well aimed curse and holding her own in every fight until Bellatrix had crossed her path, distracted her with insults and then this unexpectedly helpful misdirected jinx from some blond kid she didn't even know had accidentally saved her life and left her trapped and presumed dead on the floor of the courtyard…

Tonks allowed herself a grimace as she battled to move her limbs, to shift position, to do anything that might loosen the unseen bonds in which she remained gripped. She had to get out of this, she had to help, she had to find some point to her risking everything to be here. Maybe Remus had had a point when he told her to stay with her mother…

No. _No_. She had been an Auror until last summer and was a member of the Order of the Phoenix; she had trained for this, fought for this for most of her adult life. For as long as she'd known the difference between good and evil – and with her family, that realisation had come young - she'd been preparing for this fight. One hand, one wand could make all the difference here, so how could she sit at home not knowing, not helping just because of…

Teddy. Her baby.

Her heart gave a desperate throb at the thought of that tiny face, that so soft hair; he had smiled at them for the first time just a couple of days before, a proper smile that could not be attributed to wind and how she and Remus had smiled and laughed in return as they'd taken turns to hold him and bask in this first milestone…

_No. I can't think about that now. I can't think about what I have to lose._

Harshly, she forced the memories away. She was doing this for him, for Teddy, for her baby. She was here for him. If they failed, if all was lost, what kind of future, what kind of life would he have whether she and Remus survived or not?

A short one. A very short one.

_Remember what Bellatrix said. He's foul-blooded spawn and a canker on her nice pure family tree. If you lose this fight, she or someone like her will kill him without a second thought._

She had to do this. She had to.

The Impediment Jinx was starting to wear off – as she wriggled her shoulders desperately, Tonks could feel the invisible bonds straining and fading away. One arm was free, one leg and then suddenly, something seemed to snap and she could move again, scrambling to her feet, wand grasped as she wheeled in search of enemies to fight. Maybe if she could find Bellatrix, stop her, _kill_ her, make sure of her baby's safety in one way at least…

But Bellatrix was nowhere to be seen.

Instead, she saw Remus.

He was running hard, his face furious, his eyes hard as he hurtled out of the courtyard just below in pursuit of a black robed Death Eater. Even from almost a hundred yards away with a chaotic battleground all around them, Tonks could feel the waves of fury coursing out from her husband as he hurled himself onto the steps leading to the north battlements, his stony gaze never leaving his quarry for an instant.

_Remus! Remus, be careful_!

He shouldn't be that angry, not in a battle, not if it made him lose his head. There were enemies all around her, everywhere a battle to be fought, but she couldn't risk it, couldn't leave him to face a duel angry and alone. But there was Bellatrix too and protecting Teddy and how could she chose between watching over her husband and safeguarding her son…

The ground was shaking. She could hear angry grunts and roars, the crashing of trees, the echo of massive pounding footsteps coming closer, closer, closer.

Giants. She saw them break through the trees, lumbering forwards with clubs waving and fists clenched, heading straight towards…

The north battlements. Where Remus was. Where Remus was _distracted_…

_Damn it Remus! Damn it!_

Teddy was safe with her mother for now. But Remus was in immediate danger.

_Decision made_…

Grasping her wand firmly and praying that she didn't stumble, Tonks flung herself off in pursuit, dodging hurled curses and flinging retaliation at any black-robed figure that dared to get in her way. It seemed to take forever and a day to reach the foot of the steps, to grab the stone wall and haul her screaming body up, up, up, step after step after step, hoping beyond hope that she wouldn't trip or slip or send herself flying and by some miracle she didn't. She could hear Remus now, yelling, furious, something about a boy, about the murder of a child. Tonks felt her heart catch. Dolohov had killed one of his former students. No wonder he was so enraged.

And she could see him now as she topped the steps, standing irate over Dolohov's slumped form, his face as cold as she had ever seen it.

"Enough is enough," she heard him say. "_Avada_…"

And then she saw too late the giant head rearing from behind the battlements to her husband's right, saw the enormous club rise and then descend with shocking, terrible force…

The battlements exploded in a dusty blur of noise and stony shrapnel. She saw Remus stumble, grasping at what remained of the wall as the stones beneath his feet cracked, lurched, crumbled away beneath him…

_No!_

"REMUS!"

The dust rolled over her, choking and thick, but she paid it no heed as she surged forwards, ignoring the odd, warm shiver that seemed to touch her skin just for an instant as she plunged into the murk. His footing had gone now, snatched away and she could see his fingers grasping at the last of the dissolving stonework, slipping, sliding, falling away…

_Remus!_

She lunged forward, hurling every last drop of her speed and strength into the effort as she thrust her hands desperately down and snatched her husband's arm out of the air. The jerk all but dragged her down after him into the dusty abyss of shattered rock that was now the courtyard below and she dug her feet frantically against the last of the battlement, feeling his fingers – _still holding his wand, bloody hell, and I'm still holding mine! _- scrabbling against her robes and skin as his free hand swung out and grabbed at the wall once more, missing once twice, three times…

_Come on Remus! Merlin, how could someone so thin weigh so bloody much?_

"I've got you! Remus hold on, I've got you!"

The words were as much for her own reassurance as his. Her fingers strained and jerked, the muscles of her arms and back screaming at her as she pulled with all her might, the hard wood of his wand pressing uncomfortably against her elbow. She caught a glimpse of his dust-tousled head, wide-eyed below her as he stared up at her in shock and disbelief for a moment before pulling himself together and turning every effort once again to gaining a foothold on the wall.

_Hurry, hurry, Gods, hurry, I can't hold out much longer and I can't let you go, I just can't_…

Wood dug into her hand once more, painful, hard. She was still holding her wand. She was_ still holding her wand._

_Bloody hell, Tonks, what kind of a witch are you?_

She dare not speak aloud for her straining breath would probably snatch the words away. Instead, she thought with all her might.

_Wingardium leviosa! Wingardium leviosa!_

Since her hands were otherwise occupied with holding onto her husband, it wasn't really much of a swish. The flick was equally pathetic. But gloriously, miraculously, his weight lessened, just a touch, just enough for him to make one final grab at the wall. She saw his fingers digging into mortar, one foot jammed in a still expanding crack as he gritted his teeth and made a laborious start on pulling himself to safety. Ignoring the agony of her screeching muscles, Tonks hurled all the strength she had into leaning backwards, dragging him up with all her might. His free hand slapped down against the battlement now as he levered himself desperately up, wedging his elbows against the stone as he struggled to take his own weight off her hands. His eyes bored into her, shock written large within them, horror too but there was also just a hint of joy half-hidden in the depths that more than made up for the other.

Shock and horror however, won out.

"What the _hell_ are you doing here? Get out of here, now!"

For about a quarter of a second, Tonks was almost tempted to drop him. _Remus bloody Lupin, you noble, pushy, ungrateful, over-protective, self-righteous…_

Grabbing the back of his robes, she hauled him none-too-gently up the last few inches. "Do you mean _right _now?" she exclaimed, her voice raising a good two octaves out of a cocktail of effort and irritation. "Or shall I finish _saving your life_ first?"

"Saving my life is good!" _Well at least we agree on something_… "You being safely with our baby is better!" _But not everything_. _Isn't that just the story of our life?_

With a final grunt of effort, Remus dragged himself onto the remains of the flat stone walkway and dropped with a thud, his breath harsh and rasping, his hand still clasped in hers. He was covered in dust, blood and vivid red impact marks that Tonks knew from long experience would soon be heavy bruises. He stared up at her as she leaned back, helping him to his feet, meeting his eyes with all the love and pleading and desperation to help that had filled her from the moment he'd kissed her and Teddy goodbye and Apparated away mere hours before. And in return, his eyes filled with the same, his love, his desperation, his pleading that she go, be safe, get away from this chaos and live her life whatever became of him…

Gods, she loved him so much. The noble prat.

"Get out of here," he whispered softly. "_Please_."

She could drown in those beautiful eyes. The noise and fog battle seemed to fade into nothing, just for an instant, leaving a moment of peace, of love, of clarity, just the two of them, nothing but them in the whole wide world and she knew that he and Teddy were all that she wanted, all that she wanted forever…

"_Avada…"_

_What…_

And then the world blew apart.

It was as though the air beside them rippled, stretched and then suddenly _burst_, striking her face with an impact that almost sent her staggering. A shadow, a figure loomed suddenly beside them and she felt it lunge forwards, felt Remus' wand snatched from their clasped hands and heard a voice, a man's voice yell a spell out loud.

"_Geminio!_"

And then, for one dizzying, bewildering instant, Nymphadora Tonks was staring straight at _herself._

_What the bloody_…

But she had no further time even to swear. Green light flared across her sight, closer than before, closer than Bellatrix, too close, _too close_, but then a moment, an instant, a millisecond later, a hand slapped down upon heavily upon her wrist and _yanked_.

And everything around her was gone.

Hogwarts, the battle, the giants, Dolohov, friends and foes, even the ground beneath her feet just _gone_. Deep red light brushed against her, surrounded her, filled her vision, her mind, her soul like an undulating curtain and all that she had in the world was one mysterious hand clamped around her wrist and Remus' fingers clasped in hers.

And then the red light _squeezed_.

It was the only way she could describe it. It engulfed her like a straitjacket, like a _shroud,_ wrapping her from top to toe as it pressed into her skin, her muscles, her heart and set each and every molecule of her body vibrating. It felt like a metamorphosis gone terribly wrong, like the times in her youth when she'd experimented too hard, pushed too far and felt the protests of her body but this was a thousand fold greater, shrinking and stretching, pulling and pushing, yanking at her body, her heart, her mind, even her soul as though to tear each from the other and rip them all asunder. If it had not been for the malleable nature of her body, she was certain, oh so certain that she'd have been torn into pieces already.

A shudder to her left, a man's gasp, unfamiliar. And then…

And then Remus _screamed_.

She felt his fingers torn from hers, ripped away with shocking violence and she tried to grasp them back, tried to cry his name, but there was no sound, no movement, nothing but a sudden surge in the glow of red around her, a ripple, almost a push and then…

Light. Normal light.

She had weight again. And that weight plummeted to the floor, her shoulder striking the ground with painful clarity, her hip jarred and bruised, and for a moment she could do nothing but lie gasping in the sudden silence, eyes closed, fingers flexing as though that simple movement would restore her husband's touch. She could feel the heat of another body beside her, hear the frantic drawing of breath, the gentle gasps of shock and it had to be Remus, it had to be…

She opened her eyes.

Remus' eyes met hers.

But they were not in Remus' _face_.

_What? _

No, no, no, that couldn't be right. They were Remus' eyes, so like Remus' but the young man lying beside her was emphatically _not_ Remus. Oh, there was something there, something about him that nagged, made him familiar, but he was too young and smiling too broadly and his hair was too turquoise…

_Turquoise?_

And he was staring at her. Staring at her with disbelief. With incredulity.

With joy. Utter _joy_.

Who the hell was he?

But suddenly the smile was fading. His eyes had left her, moving around the room – _the strange room, where was she, this wasn't Hogwarts_ - searching, seeking and finding nothing. Horror, slow and terrible, began to dawn upon his face.

"Where is he?" she heard him whisper. "It should have worked, it _did _work. Why isn't he here too?"

A cold chill seemed to fill her heart as she dragged her head from the floor. One glance was enough to turn it glacial.

For she was here, wherever here was, in this strange little room with its red glowing portal and plain creamy walls. And the young stranger was obviously here too.

But they were alone.

There was no sign whatsoever of Remus.


	5. Til Death Do Us Part

**A/N:** As per usual, much gratitude must go to my beta reader Snorkackcatcher and my Merry Band of Plot helpers. :) Thanks also go to everyone who reviewed of course - bless you all, it's much appreciated and I'd respond to all in person if I had the time but alas, these days I don't... And to the several people who have wondered how certain bits of canon can be made to fit this story, all I can say is... trust me and enjoy. ;p

_**4: Til Death Do Us Part**_

"Where is he? _Where is he?_"

"Please, please, just… just calm down, okay? Put the wand down, we can reason this out…"

But Tonks was in no mood to calm down. She was in no mood for rationality, for reason, for common sense, for talk of any kind. She had been dragged out of the middle of the most important battle of her life, forced to abandon friends and colleagues to the tender mercies of goodness knew what, hauled through a mysterious vortex that had damn near pulled her to pieces, and the last she had heard of her husband was his voice screaming as his hand was yanked away from hers to face who knew what fate who knew where. And now he was missing, presumed…

Presumed...

His scream echoed horrifically through her mind. Remus could take pain. After years of transformations, he was shockingly used to it. So what could have been so bad that it made even a man with his high threshold for agony scream like that?

_Remus_. _God, Remus_…

So no. Not in the mood to calm down. What she was in fact was in the mood to hex to hell and back the next person who crossed her. And the mysterious young stranger who appeared to be the root cause of every one of these most recent troubles seemed to her a likely enough volunteer.

Especially considering she now had him backed against the wall with her wand pressed to his throat.

"Shut up!" Her harsh exclamation silenced his stuttering instantly. "Now I'm going to ask this one more time and if I don't get a straight and honest answer, I'll make you wish you'd never been born, understand? Now, for the last time of asking; who are you, where am I, where's the battle gone and what the _hell_ have you done with my _husband_?"

"I don't know!" Brown eyes, so like Remus' – _why so like Remus, who is this man?_ – stared down at her, filled with such genuine upset that Tonks felt her wand hand faltering, felt her rage slipping as fear and horror scrambled over each other to grasp at her heart in its place. "I don't know where he is, he _should_ be here, he's _supposed _to be herewith us!"

"Then why _isn't_ he here with us?" She had intended the words as a furious shout, but somehow as they passed her lips they turned into a plea. "What's _happened_ to him?" Her wand hand was shaking now, her fury losing force as she stared into the young man's face, saw her own horror, fear and confusion reflected in his features, and knew somehow without knowing that this wasn't at all what he'd intended.

_He was trying to help, somehow. I think he was trying to help_…

But help with what?

Her wand dropped abruptly, almost unconsciously away. He moved away from the wall at once, one hand scraping through his hair in a gesture of apparent distress as he began to pace the small, smooth-walled chamber. "I didn't mean for things to happen like this." His eyes met hers and they were so sincere that she couldn't find it in her heart to doubt him. "I had it all worked out, it should have worked and the potion was supposed to take care of the rest!" He seemed almost to be talking to himself now as he paced away from her, his eyes flicking almost wildly around the room. "I had a hold of him, but then he was gone, like something pulled him away…"

"You felt that too?" The words had slipped out of Tonks' mouth before she could hold them back. "I had his hand, but it was like it was ripped out of mine..."

The young man was nodding now, one hand pressed across his lips. "Yes, yes and we were clear of the battle, it happened in the Portal but how could…"

His voice broke off. His eyes drifted to the strange, glowing gateway that dominated the small room, with its little hourglasses and embedded piece of parchment, the dark red light flickering and undulating in a curtain-like fashion that reminded Tonks uncomfortably of another room, another archway and a flickering veil behind which, she had been told, her cousin had vanished forever…

She stared at the Portal once more. She stared at the young man. Realisation was dawning across his face.

She darted forwards, rushing to his side. "What?"

He was shaking his head, slowly, deliberately. "It should have shut down," he murmured. "When we came back through, the Portal should have shut down. But it hasn't. It's still active. And I think that means…" He broke off, swallowing hard. "I didn't even know it was possible. But I think he must still be _in there_. Trapped inside the Portal itself." He closed his eyes, wiping one hand across his mouth once more. "Maybe I triggered something when I broke the field, but why did we get through and not him? It doesn't make any _sense_!"

Tonks was happy to second that notion. She hadn't a clue what he was talking about other than the fact he seemed to believe that Remus was behind that curtain of light.

And that meant…

"No, wait! NO!"

But the young man's cries were too slow, too late, for Tonks was already diving passed him, hurling herself forwards towards the flickering red, wand grasped firmly, hands extending to push the curtain of light aside…

"Oof!"

The impact was bruising, a sharp, percussive smack that reminded her for a ridiculous instant of the time she'd dived out of an overhanging tree into the lake at Hogwarts and ended up doing a much-mocked belly-flop against the water's surface. For the second time in minutes she was flung painfully back against the floor, her already battered limbs shrieking in protest as she cringed and half-curled into a ball, her skin tingling with raw shock and pain.

_Bloody hell! That light's harder than it looks…_

Hands touched her arm, her shoulder, tentative, soft and concerned. She opened her eyes to find a turquoise-crowned face staring at her with eyes still so shockingly like Remus' that she almost gasped in pain.

"Are you all right?" he asked gently, wrapping one arm around her back as he levered her carefully up to a seated position. She nodded absently, staring down at her own hands, not trusting herself to look into those eyes and hold onto her composure.

"You can't pass through the Portal like that." There was something so reassuring about his voice, his manner – it reminded her somehow of being a little girl curled in her parents' arms after this or that little tumble or mishap. "You need an amulet like this one." He extended one arm to reveal a leather arm holster into which was tucked a round golden symbol twice the size of a galleon, decorated with an hourglass pattern and with a small ruby set within its centre. The ruby had cracked down the middle and was smoking as though scorched by dragon-fire. "And as you can see…" His tone was rueful now but there was genuine pain flickering behind his words. "Mine's had a little accident."

She met his eyes now, unable to help herself, unable to hold back the upsurge of horror and despair that threatened to engulf her heart. "Then how do we get him out?"

The young man bowed his head, thick turquoise hair brushing across his brow. "I don't know. I really don't."

Tonks found her eyes drifting to where the curtain of red light danced within the Portal's depths, to the place where, somehow, her husband was trapped, imprisoned and currently unreachable. She could feel her head starting to swim as the adrenalin of battle and her bizarre journey began to wear away, leaving her to face an aching, screaming body and a battered heart unaided. She felt a sudden, barely controllable urge to be sick.

_What the hell is happening, how can this be real? Losing him in battle I was almost prepared for, but to lose him like this, I can't do it, I can't just sit here when I don't even understand what on earth is going on…_

_Remus, please, please, come back to me. And you, you bloody thing, whatever you are, give him back, please him back_…

_Til death do us part, that's how the Muggle vow goes, bonded for life amongst wizards. But we're parted now and he can't be dead, he just can't be_…

And then, before her eyes, the scarlet curtain rippled. Her young companion gasped.

The light was shifting, undulating, flickering like dying fire, like embers struggling to burn. A shadow surged against the frame, the silhouette of a person, a _man_; it seemed to shift and curl and writhe like smoky whispers. But before Tonks could even register the meaning of what she was seeing, the light flared, pulsed and then, with an almost tangible lurch, seemed to dissolve away, leaving nothing but the shadow, suddenly solidified, standing alone beneath the Portal's arch.

It was Remus.

For a moment, just a moment, he lingered upright, silent, unmoving, unnaturally still. But then his body crumpled like a rag doll and he slumped down to the floor.

_Remus!_

They reached him at the same instant, she and the strange young man and shared the same look of horror as they realised he was shuddering, shaking uncontrollably, his fingers flexing, his limbs twitching, his breath surging in short, desperate gasps as though he'd lost the ability to properly inhale. Tonks caught his hand desperately, leaning over him, burying her face against the side of his head as she whispered to him, stroking his hair, frantically trying to reach him, reassure him that she was there, she was with him, he wasn't alone...

"Remus, Remus it's okay, I'm right here, you're going to be fine… Don't just _sit _there!" The last was addressed at the young man, who was staring down at Remus' prone, shivering form with a kind of mute, oddly guilty horror. "Can't you go find a Healer or something, he needs help!"

But the young man was shaking his head, though his eyes whispered a different story. "I _can't_," he whispered almost desperately. "If anyone finds out you're here…" His eyes widened suddenly and he shot to his feet. "The potions lab! Wait here, I'll go, I'll see what I can find that might help! Though Merlin knows if the Felix Felicis is still working…"

Tonks barely acknowledged him as he dashed out of the room, her eyes fixed instead upon the still shuddering form of her husband. Her free hand stroked through his thick, greying hair once more as she stared down at his still battle-bloodied face, features contorted, eyes screwed shut, hands now clenched into painful fists around her fingers as his body began to curl almost instinctively into a foetal position.

She had seen him like this only once before, on the first full moon after Dumbledore's death. It had been the first and only time he'd allowed her to watch his transformation.

And it hadn't lasted _this _long, a dozen seconds at most before the horrifying changes had kicked in and ripped away the body of the man she loved to replace it with something monstrous. It was as though he was stuck, stuck in the moment before the change, trying to transform but not quite able…

_But that can't be right! The full moon's still two days away!_

_Remus, what the hell is the matter with you?_

"Remus, come back," she whispered softly, anxiously, almost desperately. "Remus, please, you promised me, you promised on our _baby's life_ you'd never leave me again…"

His fingers flexed around her, loosening then tightening, but his hold was not the death grip it had been moments before. And then suddenly the shudders were passing, his breathing was slowing, normalising as his body relaxed abruptly against the floor, slumping into stillness. His eyelids flickered.

"Harry?" she heard him whisper, lips barely parting, the name barely more than an exhalation.

Her hand tightened around his. "Remus?" she said softly. "Remus, can you hear me?"

His eyelids flickered once more and then opened and thank Merlin, there were _his _eyes, in _his _face and staring up at her with a mixture of confusion, relief and pain.

"Dora?" he murmured in apparent bewilderment. "Dora…" One hand pulled away from hers, reaching up to brush her cheek and touch the tears she had not even realised she had begun to shed. "I thought…I thought you were gone… I thought I was… _dead_…" He shook his head, eyes squeezing shut as a wave of fresh pain rippled across his face and she touched the hand still resting on her cheek, pressing it against her skin. "But you're here and I'm touching you…"

A slow smile began to spread across Tonks' face. She could feel the fist that had grasped her heart slowly slipping away at the touch of her fingers on her face, at the feel of his eyes, so weary, so bemused but so _real_ as they stared once more into hers.

_He's okay. He's confused, he's battered, but he's okay. And we're together. Thank the stars, we're together_…

"Well I suppose we could both be dead," she offered in the best faux-casual voice she could muster whilst holding back a sudden surge of fresh tears. "But this is a pretty damned weird afterlife if you ask me."

He blinked, eyes slipping away from her face as he drank in their surroundings for the first time. His brow furrowed instantly.

"Where are we?" he said, coupling the statement with a groan as pushed himself up onto his elbows; Tonks' deliberate look of protest at this unnecessary effort was simply brushed aside. "This isn't Hogwarts."

"I know." The shock and confusion of the last few minutes were wearing away rapidly at the solidly real and reasonably intact return of Remus; as her Auror-trained mind kicked in, Tonks followed his lead and took a proper look at their surroundings for the first time. A round chamber with unremarkable cream walls and two doors, one to her left where the young man had vanished a minute or two before, and one behind her which appeared to be locked. And then there was the archway through which they had apparently been - pulled? dragged? – and in which Remus had until moments before been trapped, now sitting benign and silent without its glistening red light, the tiny hourglasses set into its frame gleaming in the dull light. And embedded in the wall behind it, unseen by her before while the curtain of red had glimmered, was a plain white tile set into the wall, on which were engraved, in heavy black letters, a time, a day, a month and a year.

The _wrong_ time, day, month and year, to be precise.

_**20:49 - Monday 2**__**nd**__** July 2018.**_

_2018? What in the name of Merlin's scrawny backside is _that_ all about?_

"Tonks." The tone of Remus' voice was enough to tell her that her husband's eyes were fixed upon the same spot as hers. "Why does that calendar appear to be under the impression that we are ridiculously close to celebrating our _twenty-first_ wedding anniversary?"

She glanced across at his frowning face as she carefully pulled him up to a sitting position. "Is it a calendar? It looks more like someone's carved a random date into the wall to me." She squinted at the tile once more, fighting down a strange, plodding sense of doom that was rapidly setting up residence in her stomach. "I wonder if it's meant to be when a prophecy comes true or something…"

Her voice tailed away. The engraved figures were shifting.

_**20:50**_

_That's not carved in. _

_Bloody hell._

_It _is_ a calendar. A calendar that seems to think it's _twenty years_ in the future_…

Her eyes drifted almost unconsciously back to the now unmoving portal. Little hourglasses glinted at her mockingly.

Time-Turners.

_No_. No.

That couldn't be right. It couldn't be.

But one look into Remus' face told her that he was thinking exactly the same thing.

_It can't be. It _can't_. Why the hell would anyone even _bother_ to drag two random people out of a battle and drop them twenty years into the future? Is this some sick Death Eater trick? Is dear Auntie Bellatrix laughing at me behind that locked door?_

What _is going on here?_

"I think the luck potion's still working a bit, I found everything I could… You're _awake_!"

At the unexpected voice, Tonks jumped about a foot, head swinging round to her left. The young man was standing in the open doorway, awkwardly juggling handfuls of colourful potion vials. With a broad smile, he dumped the lot unceremoniously on the floor and rushed over to join them.

"I'm so sorry!" he exclaimed, brushing his turquoise hair out of his eyes as he dropped to his knees beside them, gazing at Remus with a mixture of guilt, happiness and outright relief. "I had no idea that anything like that was going to happen, I _swear_, I thought it would just be a straightforward pull and you'd both be here and fine…" He drew a long, deep breath. "How are you feeling? Are you okay?"

Remus was staring at the young man. His eyes were drifting across his face, over his colourful hair, past those so familiar eyes, and then they flicked, almost unnoticeably towards the engraved calendar. He blinked, hard.

"I think I'll…_live_." His tone was odd, confused, distracted and ever so slightly shocked. "Though I can't say whether I _should._" The young man's eyes widened as Remus' gaze buried with sudden intensity into his. "It was _you_, wasn't it? You took my wand and grabbed my shoulder. You pulled us out of the battle…"

"Oh! Your wand!" Fumbling slightly, the young man pulled the offending item out of his sleeve and handed it to Remus almost nervously. "I'm really sorry about that, but you see I couldn't take my own wand through and I needed to cast a spell to make sure everything was as it should be…"

"As it _should_ be?" Tonks abruptly found her voice. "There is nothing here that's as it should be! We were fighting for the sake of the wizarding world, for our son, for everything and you dragged us away and dumped us wherever the hell this is! Our friends are in danger, Harry Potter needs us and you made us _leave_! Who the hell do you think you are?" Her wand was twitching dangerously in her hand. "I'd ask if you were a Death Eater if I wasn't sure that no Death Eater would be so dumb as to give Remus his wand back…"

"I'm not a Death Eater," the young man stated hurriedly. "There are no Death Eaters, not any more." He took a deep breath. "And don't worry about the battle because it's over now."

"Over?" Tonks could feel her heart pounding against her ribcage. "_Over_? But…"

The young man was smiling now, soft and reassuring. "You won," he said quietly. "_Harry_ won. He survived. And Lord Voldemort is dead."

"You-Know-Who…?" After the months of prohibition, Tonks couldn't quite make herself say the name. "Dead?"

Her mind was whirling. That he could be dead, that it could be over… Oh she had wanted it, fought for it, dreamed of it, but somehow never quite believed it… And to be told like this, in this strange room, with this young stranger, not really knowing whether it was safe to believe, but desperately, desperately wanting to…

And she felt she should believe him. Could believe him. She felt like she _knew_ him.

Family. He felt like family.

And if the calendar was telling the truth… Twenty years had passed.

Those eyes. That smile. That _hair_…

Twenty years… He'd be twenty years old.

A tiny face staring up into hers. A first smile…

_No. No, it can't be_…

_This is insane!_

"I know you must be confused." He sounded like her dad. His voice, Merlin, it was so similar and those eyes, so much like Remus' that it had hurt her to look at them when she'd thought her husband gone… "But it's okay, I promise. I can explain everything but…well. It's going to take a little time…"

Tonks found herself struggling to breathe. In her mind's eye, she pictured her baby, her little baby with hair that shifted with his moods, whom she'd held in her arms an hour, just an hour before. It couldn't be. She couldn't be looking at…

"Teddy! _Teddy_!"

It was as though someone had punched her in the gut. She felt winded, sick, bewildered, as she saw the young man's head whip round and steal away the last of her denials. Next to her, Remus' face was a frozen mask.

"Harry," she heard the young man (she couldn't think the name she'd heard, his name would make it real…) exclaim, shock and confusion flashing across his face. "What the hell is _he_ doing here?"

_Harry? Harry Potter?_

"Teddy, I know you're here!" Merlin, it _was_ Harry, though his voice was different, older – _no, don't think about it, don't think that way, it can't be so_… "I know what you're _doing_! _Teddy_!"

"Uh oh." He was rising now, the young man with the turquoise hair, with her husband's eyes and her baby's smile, anxiety written large across his features. "Look, please, I know I've no right to ask anything of you, but please…just _stay here_. If he sees you, there'll be hell to pay. For _all _of us. Stay here. _Please_."

One last glance, his eyes wide and pleading. And then he turned and rushed from the room.

Every breath was almost more effort than she could face. Her eyes drifted towards her husband, pleading, begging him to dismiss the facts laid out before them and take her back to the world she knew.

But one look in his eyes told her he couldn't.

"Remus…" she whispered, her voice tailing away. She couldn't say it.

"I know." His hand caught hers and squeezed it almost desperately. "Dora, I know. I think…" He swallowed hard, eyes holding her gaze as though clinging to a lifeline. "I think we just talked to our _son_."


	6. Protection

**_A/N:_** Thank you again to everyone who's been kind enough to leave a review - I read and appreciate every one :) And thanks of course to the good Merry Band and to Snorkackcatcher my beta :)

_**5: Protection**_

_Dad knows. He knows who I am._

Teddy was sure of it; as sure as he ever had been of anything in his life before. It had been written on his face, in his eyes as he'd stared at his young rescuer, before shifting his gaze to the wall where Teddy knew the Portal room calendar to be. And then when he'd looked back, his expression had been crystal clear. Recognition, realisation, not a small amount of shock – though the latter was of course to be expected, since it wasn't every day a man left his baby son behind and came across him fully grown a few hours later. But his dad had known, and the look he'd glimpsed on his mum's face suggested strongly that she wasn't far behind him.

His dad. His mum.

They were here. Looking at him. Seeing him. Recognising him. He'd talked to them. He'd _touched_ them. No longer was he a spectator, silent and unseen, watching their life go by like a performance in which he could not take part. They were here. His parents were _here_.

He'd _done it._

And as he made his way hurriedly into the clock-filled corridor that led to the various sections of the Time Division, it was all Teddy could do to keep himself from beaming like an idiot.

But the sound of sharp footsteps and the sudden appearance of his godfather in the door at the far end of the corridor brought him abruptly back down to earth. Yes, he'd done it. And from the look on Harry's face, it was time to face the consequences.

But he couldn't tell him. Not the truth.

Because if there was going to be fallout from his actions that evening, Teddy was quite determined it would only fall on _him_.

He stopped, watching his godfather advance, messy haired and breathless, firmly clutching a sheaf of crumpled looking papers in one hand. No, he couldn't tell Harry. After everything Harry had done for him over the years, the love and care he'd shown him, he knew full well that he couldn't put him in that kind of position. Teddy had broken the law. Emphatically. And his godfather was Head of the Auror Department. How could he ask him to choose between his godson and his work? How could he make Harry face having to either arrest him for blatant misuse of a powerful, restricted magical object or, be dragged into a conspiracy of silence that, if uncovered, would cost him his job and possibly his freedom?

Simple. He couldn't. So Harry wasn't going to find out.

Carefully, he adjusted his features into an expression of mild, but happy surprise. He smiled with deliberate bewilderment

"Harry!" he exclaimed. "What are you…"

"Can you explain this?" The grimness in his godfather's expression killed the smile stone dead. "Because I really want to know this is not what it looks like. I really want to know you aren't this _stupid_."

Papers, crumpled and messy, were thrust into his hands. He looked down.

_Oh Merlin_…

His notes. How the hell had Harry got hold of his notes? He'd been so careful, keeping them safely locked up in the drawer of his desk so that no one would ever know what he was planning…

Except tonight. He'd been in such a hurry that he hadn't put them away before he'd left. He'd left them scattered on the table.

And Harry must have come round to see him and…

Bugger.

Bugger, bugger, _bugger_.

Well at least now he could be sure that the Felix Felicis had worn off.

_Think. Think fast_…

But Harry's voice was already ploughing on, green eyes fixed upon his face with searing intensity. "I really can't believe this." He was shaking his head. "After everything your Gran and I have told you about your parents, after seeing them for yourself in the Portal… do you really think that _this_ is what they'd have wanted? Do you think that the Remus and Tonks you've got to know could bear to see their only son risking his future and his freedom in some pointless attempt to bring them back from the _dead_? They'd throw _fits_, Teddy, and you know it!" He shook his head again, turning away from Teddy at last as he took a moment to pace a little way along the corridor, eyes suddenly faraway. "You know I saw your father in the forest." His voice was suddenly very soft. "I told you about it. And you've tried to explain to me often enough that history can only happen how you remember or you wouldn't remember it at all. And I can't say it ever made much sense to me but…" His eyes rose, meeting Teddy's once more, an odd kind of plea echoing within their emerald depths. "They're _dead_, Teddy. And I'm sorry but nothing's going to change that. If it could, don't you think I'd have done it by now?" He sighed deeply. "I hoped visiting their past through the Portal would cure you of this, not make it worse. But when Victoire brought me those notes…"

"Victoire?" For the first time, Teddy found the will to interrupt his godfather's words. "What does she have to do with it? She's in France, she won't be back until Monday and…" It was as though someone had doused his heart in ice cold water as horror swamped him from crown to sole; he'd promised, he'd promised her he'd go round and see her as soon as she got back on Monday night, but with his plans and his inspiration that evening, he'd completely forgotten that… "Oh Merlin, it _is _Monday, _oh no_…" The words slipped out almost unconsciously as one hand shot to his forehead. "I _promised_ her. She's going to _kill_ me."

He could have sworn for an instant that the corner of Harry's mouth twitched slightly upwards. "I'd say that's pretty much a given," he remarked dryly. "And when you failed to arrive as promised, she Flooed straight over to your house and found _those_."

_Victoire's seen my notes? Oh sweet Merlin, I'm in more trouble than I thought_…

"And since some people have the sense to _talk_ to the people who care about them and want to help them rather than plotting away in private-" Harry ploughed on relentlessly; Teddy did allow himself the fleeting, rebellious thought that from what Ginny, Hermione and Ron had told him over the years, Harry himself had never exactly been one for sharing his troubles in his youth either "-Victoire brought these straight over to show _me_. You owe that girl a big apology, you know. She's worried sick about you."

"I'll go and see her as soon as I can." Mention of his girlfriend had sent Teddy's carefully ordered thoughts into an abrupt freefall, but manfully he struggled to bring himself back to order in time to deflect any further queries. Harry, it seemed, still believed that these were plans alone; he didn't know that Teddy had already gone through with it, already _succeeded_...

_I can't let slip to Harry that it's already too late_ …

"I'll go and see her," he said with a suddenly emphatic nod, fingering the papers with careful uncertainty. "And make sure she knows that this is all a big misunderstanding. Harry…" He braced himself, silently and repeatedly apologising for the fact he was about to lie, barefaced, to the godfather who had been so good to him for all of his life. "You didn't think I was _really_ going to go through with that, did you?"

One of Harry's eyebrows curved suspiciously. His lips tightened to a thin line.

"If you're about to try and spin your way out of this, forget it," he informed Teddy sharply. "I've heard stories from Neville about your talent for talking yourself out of trouble when you were at school, and I know exactly where you get it from. I got in trouble once, _serious_ trouble with Severus Snape, and your dad came in and talked me out of there without so much as losing me house points. So don't try anything on with me. I know the drill."

_Harry, I'm so sorry, I didn't want to do this, why didn't I realise this is what I'd have to do?_

"But it's _true_," he insisted with as much vehement fake sincerity as he could bear to muster. "It's just…" He made himself shake his head and turn away, fixing his gaze upon an intricately designed grandfather clock so that he wouldn't have to face those searching eyes. He felt like a complete and utter git, but he had to do this, he had to deceive Harry for all their sakes or everything would be ruined. His parents had been willing to die to protect his future; surely he could tell a few lies to protect them in return.

Even if it meant lying to one of the people in his life he loved the most.

_You can do this. You _have_ to do this._

_It's the only way to keep all three of them safe._

He'd thought so much about the ways and means of bringing them back. He hadn't thought about what he'd have to do afterwards in order to keep them.

He forced himself to sigh deeply. "When I first saw them die, I couldn't handle it." That much at least was true. "I found myself thinking over and over again how unfair it was, how if one little thing had been different, they could have lived and we'd have been a family. And then I started trying to think of ways to make it happen." He deliberately clenched his fists. "I know it was stupid. In the end, it was writing it down that made me see how stupid it was. I was just looking at those notes tonight and I realised what an _idiot _I was being. That's why I came here, to the Portal. I wanted to see them one last time before I stepped away for good. I wanted to say _goodbye_." He could feel his shoulders shaking, and he hoped and prayed that Harry would attribute the tremble to intense emotion rather than self-flagellating nerves. "And then when I got home, I was going to chuck these stupid notes in the fire. In fact, here!" Turning abruptly, he thrust the papers into his godfather's astonished hands. "Take them, take them away! Shred them, burn them, line an owl cage with them for all I care but I don't want to see them again!"

Harry stared down at the crumpled ball of paper resting once more in his hands. He was frowning deeply, but his eyes were filled with…

_No, no, no sympathy please…_

"Teddy…"

Deliberately Teddy turned away, raking his hand through his turquoise hair. "Don't, please," he muttered with complete sincerity. "Just let it go, okay? It's over now."

"Are you sure?"

_Harry, just believe me, just let it go…_

"Of course I'm sure. I wouldn't have said so if I wasn't." Teddy winced internally at the sincerity in his own voice. _I am such a git_…

The touch of his godfather's hand, gentle and reassuring against his shoulder was almost more than he could bear.

"I'm only making sure because I care." Harry's voice was becoming painful to his ears – more than anything, he just wanted to turn tail and get the hell out of this mess before he dug his trench of guilt any deeper. "For your sake, and the sake of what I owe to your parents, I have to be certain you're not going to risk your future over some futile plan." Slowly, agonisingly, Teddy felt himself being turned to face his godfather once more. Green eyes drilled painfully into his face once more. "So I'm going to have to ask you to swear."

The bottom dropped out of Teddy's stomach. _No, no, no, no, I can't do that! Oh Merlin_, _what am I going to do?_

But Harry was relentless, his grasp steady, his gaze firm. "So, I want you to look me in the eye, Teddy. Look me in the eye and swear to me on your parents' graves that you'll never try to bring them back. Please."

His parents' graves.

Harry had asked him to swear on his _parents' graves_.

Which were otherwise known as two empty holes full of rotting spell residue.

Deep inside his mind, Teddy could hear a part of himself laughing with sudden, frantic hysteria. Of all the oaths he could have asked for, of all the promises he could have been requested to make, Harry had chosen the one that he could in good conscience agree to. It wouldn't be pleasant, but it wouldn't be a travesty either.

_Perhaps the Felix Felicis hasn't quite worn off after all_…

Summoning every flailing ounce of courage he had left, Teddy forced his gaze up to meet Harry's.

"I swear," he said deliberately. "On the graves of Nymphadora Tonks and Remus Lupin, the graves I have visited and laid flowers at with you and with Gran, that I will make no attempt now or at any time in the future to alter history in order to save my parents."

It was a masterpiece of an oath. Every part of it was true. Every part of it was a lie.

And Harry was smiling.

He believed him.

_Teddy Lupin. You just flat-out lied to your godfather._

_But I _had_ to do it._

"Thank you," he said with such sincerity that it was all Teddy could do not to wince. "Call me a distrustful sod if you like, but I needed to hear that. Well-" his hand clapped down with in sudden good cheer on Teddy's shoulder "-now that's all sorted, shall we get out of here? I'll come with you to Shell Cottage so see Victoire if you like, or you can come back to Grimmauld Place with me if you want to talk some more…"

"I can't." Teddy hoped the words spilling from his lips didn't sound as horrified as they had done in his mind. "I mean, I've left the Portal and everything in a mess. I've got to tidy up first."

"Need a hand?"

_Oh please stop being so bloody nice_… "It's kind of restricted, Harry. You shouldn't really even be in here…"

Harry flushed faintly but he continued to smile. "Ah well. Old habits die hard, I guess. Do you want me to wait for you outside?"

Teddy shook his head. "It'll take a while. And anyway…" He gave a slightly embarrassed shrug. "If I've got to go and grovel for forgiveness from my girlfriend, I could do without any witnesses."

At that Harry laughed outright. "Now that I can relate to. The amount of grovelling I've had to do with Ginny over the years…" He chuckled again and gave Teddy's shoulder another squeeze. "Will we see you for dinner at Grimmauld Place this week? James hasn't stopped asking when you'll next be coming over."

Teddy managed to smile in return. "I think Victoire gets first dibs on my time this week. But I'll see what I can do."

"Well it's an open invitation." Finally Harry withdrew his hand. "Drop by any time. Bring Victoire along if you like."

"I'll ask her." Teddy hesitated and then forced the words out. "Thanks Harry. For everything."

"No problem." With a final smile, his godfather turned and started back towards the dark door that led into the rotating hallway. "See you soon. Oh!" He turned suddenly, almost apologetically and Teddy couldn't hold back the abrupt surge of horror in his heart. Did he know? Was he about to strip the lies away?

But no. "Which door is it to get out from here?"

Teddy bit back a sigh of relief. "Two left from straight ahead."

"Thanks. And good luck with Victoire!"

And then, with a final smile and a quick wave over his shoulder, Harry pulled the door shut and was gone.

And Teddy felt sick. Felt sick at the lies he had told, felt sick that he was so relieved to see his godfather leave, felt sick that he had sworn an oath, however carefully crafted, and known he hadn't meant it.

_Is this what it's going to be now? Is this the price I'll have to pay for protecting those I love?_

_Have I done the right thing?_

Yes.

In spite of it all, yes. How could he wonder when he'd felt his father's eyes upon him, heard the real, true sound of his mother's voice…

"Teddy?"

For a moment, he wondered if he was imagining that he'd heard her speak, that the thought alone had somehow conjured the words into the air. But then he heard a door creak open, heard footsteps in the corridor behind him and he knew that his ears had not been deceived by his mind.

He turned.

His father still looked weak, clinging to his mother's shoulder with as much dignity as he could muster, still battered, bruised and bloodied from the battle he'd fought and his experience - whatever that had been - inside the Portal. For her part, his mother's eyes were fixed upon him. Her skin was chalk white, bloodless.

One look was enough for him to know. They'd been listening.

They'd heard everything.

"You're Teddy." There was a flatness beneath his mother's trembling tone, a strange cocktail of disbelief, shock, horror and daunted hope. "_Our_ Teddy. Grown up."

And Teddy found that he was smiling again, smiling in spite of the lies he'd had to tell, in spite of the shock on his parents' faces. Because despite everything that had happened, it didn't change the fact that they were _here_.

He loved them and they were here.

Now all he had to do was hope that somehow he could find a life for them to live. And that they, at least once they were over the shock of it all, would learn to love him once more as well as he loved them.

"Mum," he said softly. "Dad. Welcome to your future."


	7. In Memoriam

**A/N:** Many thanks as ever to everyone who reviewed and to my noble gang of plot-helpers (Gilpin, Celtmama, Lady Bracknell, Drumher, Godricgal, Aftertherain and MrsTater) and to fellow helper and beta reader Snorkackcatcher. This chapter was only supposed to be a few paragraphs on the beginning of the next one, but I liked the memorial idea so much, I played a bit instead. :) I should also reiterate that I own nothing - this is JKR's mansion and I'm just a squatter in the attic, playing with her toys. Even if I have inadvertantly made off with her chapter title...;p

_**6: In Memoriam**_

It had, Teddy reflected later, been a surprisingly long few hours.

Tidying up had formed a substantial part of it. All the vials of potion he had grabbed from various shelves had had to be carefully replaced according to Elijah Whistler's catalogue. A strange red scorch mark that he hadn't even noticed at first had stained the floor beneath the Portal and needed to be carefully scrubbed away. There was little he could do about the strange, taut, painfully high-pitched hum that seemed to be emanating from the Portal itself, a physical sound that stung his fingertips like static when he brushed them that bit too close. Clearly damage had been done in the course of his field-shattering ride, but since he hadn't the faintest idea what to do about it, all he could do was pocket his damaged amulet and hope that, if questioned, he would be able to bluff his way through with a story about it breaking in transit.

And his parents had helped him, as best they could with his father still weakened by his strange experience, and his mother possessing two left feet and five thumbs on each hand. But no vial had been broken, all damage that could be seen had been repaired, and as they had worked, they had talked.

Or Teddy had. Quietly and as best he could, he had explained everything, explained how they had supposedly died in battle and how Voldemort had fallen, explained how his Gran had raised him, how Harry and the Weasley family and so many friends had helped him, even how he'd thought he didn't really need parents in his life until the moment he had stepped through the Portal and felt how real they had become for him when he had watched them die…

His mum was still pale, shocked, almost in a kind of trance, and hadn't said much as he had talked. His dad had smiled softly, reassuringly, offering comfort wherever it was needed in spite of his own weakness and confusion. It was he who had questioned Teddy once or twice on this or that aspect of what he had done, of why he had done it, quietly, carefully, with neither approval nor disdain, his eyes steady and mostly unreadable. It was a little disconcerting.

And then, once he had checked the coast beyond was clear with a soft _Homenum revelio_, Teddy quietly asked his parents if they would follow him up to the Floo so they could go home. They had agreed.

"You lied to Harry."

His father's statement came out of nowhere. Teddy bit his lip as he carefully reset the rotation of the Department of Mysteries door chamber and stepped out into the corridor of Level Nine where his parents were silently waiting. His father's steady gaze was fixed upon his face.

Teddy sighed. "I know," he replied softly as he gestured in the direction of the gold grilled lift doors. "And I'm not proud of it. But I had to do it. If he'd have found out you were here…"

"He'd have keeled over with a coronary?" It was the first thing his mum had said in quite some time, and the sarcastic irreverence of it contrasted sharply with her pale face and the firm, thin set of her mouth. Teddy saw his dad glance sharply in her direction, but her eyes were fixed on the lift ahead and she did not meet his stare.

"Probably," Teddy admitted uncomfortably. "But I should tell you that what I did tonight isn't strictly legal… In fact it's about as illegal as anything in this Department can be."

"_No_," his mum declared mordantly. "Really?"

"Dora…" His father wrapped his fingers gently around her wrist, before turning to Teddy once more. "We guessed that much," he remarked with gentle wryness.

"Otherwise there would probably be a queue of people dropping by to collect dead relatives. But that still doesn't explain why you deceived Harry like that. Were you concerned that he would turn you in?"

"No." Pulling the lift grille open, Teddy ushered his parents inside and pressed the button for the Atrium. "I was concerned he _wouldn't_. And that's exactly why I couldn't tell him. You see, Harry's the Head of the Auror Department." Both his parents' eyes flicked sharply in his direction although neither looked even remotely surprised. "And he's been so good to me over the years. If he found out what I'd done, he'd want to help me, help _you_, but how can I let him do that knowing what it could cost him? He loves that job. If anyone found out he knew what I'd done, he'd most likely end up fired, and I can't do that to him after all he's done for me. It's better that he not be involved." He felt himself wince slightly. "And if I can protect him by lying through my teeth to his face, so be it."

"Don't you think that's his decision?" There was a sharpness to his mother's tone that made Teddy feel vaguely uncomfortable. "Do you have the right to make it for him?"

His father's sigh was deep and notably profound. "Dora, at least he acted from the best motives, even if…"

"Oh that's right." As the lift came to a standstill, his mum yanked her wrist out of his father's grasp, crossing her arms across her chest with a distinctly bullish expression. "I should have known. I'm stuck in a lift with _Noble Prats United_."

Teddy's discomfort was increasing by the minute. True, he hadn't exactly expected his parents to fall weeping into his arms, but he couldn't say that he'd exactly imagined _this_ either. His father's quiet reserve was all well and good, but his mother was becoming outright _hostile_.

"Aren't we being a bit careless?" she said suddenly, as Teddy reached past to open the lift grille. "If our being here is supposed to be the secret of the century you've made it out to be, shouldn't we be making sure the coast is clear before blundering out into the open?"

Teddy shrugged slightly, trying not to show how worrying and discomforting he found her confrontational tone. One look at his dad as they stepped out of the lift into the Atrium was enough to tell that he was not the only one becoming concerned.

"It's just gone ten," he told his mum quietly. "No one but me and Kenelm and Dougal the night-watchwizards ever stay back after nine; not even Magical Maintenance. And I know how those two work - Kenelm's always quaffing the leftover coffee on Level One by now and Dougal's probably looking for Percy's private stash of chocolate biscuits." Just to be sure, he briefly recast the locator charm and as expected, found only two other people, several floors above. He smiled slightly. "Yep. Drinking coffee and nicking biscuits, I'd bet. I think we're okay."

His mother's eyes were narrowing. "You _think_?"

It was at that moment that his father finally decided to step in.

"Dora," he said quietly, resting one hand softly against his recalcitrant wife's shoulder. "Are you all right?"

"Fine." The grimace on her face contrasted unpleasantly with the faux-cheer of her declaration. "Absolutely fine and dandy. Not a care in the world, that's me…" She pursed her lips, shifting her crossed arms against her chest in apparent discomfort as she ignored her husband's pointed look of concern. "Look, can we just get out of here? In case you've forgotten, I was fighting for my life a couple of hours ago and I'm not exactly feeling my best."

His dad ran one finger across the vividly blossoming bruise along his jaw-line. "Trust me. I couldn't forget if I tried."

"And neither can anyone else who comes in here." Teddy wasn't entirely sure why he chose that moment to speak, or why he chose this subject to speak of. He knew that this was new to them, that they were struggling to come to terms with the fact that their battle of a few hours before was distant history to everyone else. But perhaps if he could show them, perhaps if they could see and understand, things would be easier…

He found himself pointing, gesturing towards the large golden fountain that dominated the centre of the Atrium. A phoenix in flight rose in graceful gold from a cylindrical plinth, water gushing gently from its open beak and from its feet down to the lapping pool beneath, a dozen easily readable names engraved in silver glimmering in the half-light. Even as he watched, the names shimmered, glistened and were abruptly replaced as the next dozen on the list made their appearance.

No Muggle-like war memorial for wizardkind, Kingsley had said, no lists of names so small and numerous that no one could ever read and acknowledge them all and the sacrifices they made. Large letters, he'd insisted, readable from a distance and ever changing, so the names of those who had given their lives to end Voldemort's reign of terror would shift and rise and catch the eye, a new list of heroes to read every morning as those who owed them everything arrived at the Ministry for work. It was what they all deserved. A moment, however brief, of personal recognition.

Including his parents.

He still remembered the heartfelt jolt of shock the first time he had arrived for work and found their names staring back at him from the fountain's mount - _Nymphadora (Tonks) Lupin 1973-1998; Remus Lupin 1960-1998 _- two names written clear and bright in shimmering silver. They had glimmered before his eyes before shifting away to leave _Marlene McKinnon_ and _Alastor (Mad-Eye) Moody_ in their place.

He'd always taken more time to read the shifting names after that. By now, he knew them all.

His dad's brow was furrowed, his voice, when it came, so quiet. "It's a memorial?"

Teddy nodded. "Yes. To everyone who fell to Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters, in the First War and the Second."

His father's eyes were scanning over the names; they halted sharply, widening with sudden horror.

"Fred Weasley?" he whispered, sounding stunned. "Oh God no…"

_Idiot!_ Teddy grimaced. Of _course_. He'd told them a little of the battle but he hadn't exactly provided a casualty list. And it was a few hours to them, these faces still real and fresh in their memories, not twenty years in their graves…

He glanced at his mother. Her eyes were fixed several names higher than _Frederick Weasley_, lingering above _Emmeline Vance,_ and Teddy knew without looking just what had caught her eye.

_Edward (Ted) Tonks 1950-1998._

She'd known he was dead, of course – he had died before Teddy was even born. But to her the loss was still a fresh wound, only a couple of months old…

With a shimmer, the memorial moved on. As and then Bs appeared; _Madeline Abbott, Regulus Black, Sirius Black, Broderick Bode, Amelia Bones, Castor Bones, Edgar Bones, Edmund Bones, Miranda Bones, Hadrian Broadhead, Frank Bryce, Charity Burbage_…

"You said you recorded the facts of the Battle of Hogwarts as part of your work." His father's voice was low as his eyes raked over the fresh list of names with a hardened jaw. "Do you have a copy of them?"

"At home, yes." Teddy glanced at his father's pallor, made all the more noticeable by his rapidly colouring bruises. "I've got copies of all our histories, year by year, and they update automatically from the base edition in the office as we work. Plus I've got the book Penny Weasley wrote recently on the history of wizarding Britain since the end of the war."

His father nodded, lost in apparent thought. "I'd like to read them. I'd like to know what we've _missed_. And it still seems strange to say that when it's just been a few hours from my perspective…"

"Are we on it?" His mum's sudden interruption almost made Teddy start. "This memorial. Are two of those names ours?"

"Yes." Teddy turned towards his mum, but she was twisting the sleeve of her tattered Auror robes and did not look in his direction. "It's alphabetical though, so you won't appear for a while. You're next to Frank and Alice Longbottom. They're still alive, poor things, but Minister Shacklebolt insisted they be included." He grinned slightly as a strange thought popped into his head. "It's ironic that the only four living people on the memorial are on the same page of the list…"

But his voice trailed off. His mother was staring at him with suddenly wide eyes. "Minister Shacklebolt? _Minister Shacklebolt_?" Her voice echoed through the Atrium from ceiling to floor, bouncing, multiplying until it almost seemed to fill the air around them with her words. "As in _Kingsley _Shacklebolt?"

Teddy stared, bewildered, at his mother's profound disbelief. "Well… yes. He was elected Minister straight after the war and he's held the position ever since. His reforms have done so much for the wizarding world…"

"But… _Kingsley_?" His mother, it seemed, had finally reached the end of her rapidly diminishing tether. "I worked with Kingsley. I teased him. I kicked him in the shins for calling me Nymphadora one too many times. And now he's _Minister for Magic_? That can't be… This is all…" Her voice trailed away as she paced abruptly past the side of the fountain, brushing off his father's outstretched hand as she raked her fingers through her limp brown hair, her features suddenly crumpled. "Twenty years in a couple of hours… my baby's grown up… Fred's dead, the war's over, Kingsley is _Minister for Magic_…" Her fingers tightened across her skull. "This is a _dream_. It has to be. I'm going to wake up in the Hogwarts Hospital Wing and find this whole crazy business has been in my fevered, delusional imagination."

"If you're dreaming, so am I." His dad's tone was softly wry. "And I don't think that theory will work when it's both of us."

His mother wheeled on him abruptly, dashing one hand against her head. "Well of _course _you're going to say that. I'm _dreaming_, Remus, you saying that proves nothing! How do I know I didn't just _dream _you saying you must be dreaming too?"

The look his dad directed at Teddy was so bizarrely, inappropriately humorous that for a moment it was his turn to wonder if he was hallucinating. "You must excuse your mother, Teddy," he drawled dryly. "She has these occasional disagreements with reality."

"Oi!" His mum marched up to his dad, glaring into his eyes from less than an inch distant. "Watch it, Lupin! Just because I'm dreaming this doesn't mean it won't hurt when I _hit _you. In fact, since it's my dream, I'll dream that it hurt you more than usual…"

And then, astonishingly, his father gave a half smile. "Now, Dora. Not in front of the baby."

There was a long, echoing silence. His mother stared at his father. His father stared back.

"Do you think this is _funny_, Remus?" His mother's voice was suddenly deathly cold. "We're _twenty years_ out of our time. Everyone thinks we're _dead_. Our _son_ has grown up _without_ us. And you're standing there making _jokes_ about it?"

His father never once broke from her gaze. "No, I don't think it's funny," he replied, his voice low, calm, firm and determined. "I think it's deadly serious. But if there's one thing the last couple of years have taught me – that _you've _taught me - it's that the facts don't change just because a person has a crisisabout it. We need to face this. _Together_." He smiled, just slightly, just enough. "And we can't do that if you're dreaming, can we? Because if you're dreaming, you can't let me in."

Silence stretched once more, deep and powerful. And then suddenly, his mum was leaning into his dad's chest and his dad was wrapping his arms around her, and planting a kiss in her hair as he pulled her close.

"See?" Teddy heard him whisper.

"I hate it when you're reasonable." His mother's voice was a grudging rumble against his father's robes. "You do know that, don't you?"

"Absolutely. Now come on." Carefully, he pulled away from her and turned to where Teddy was still waiting in silence. "I think we'd all better take this somewhere more private."

His mother was first through the Floo. For a moment, he and his father stood side-by-side, alone in the echoing hallway.

"You goaded her on purpose." Teddy stated softly.

"Of course," his father replied with the same small half-smile. "It was the only way to get through to her. She can't resist a rise, not from me, and she was holding in too much. I should know." His smile faded slightly. "But bear with her, Teddy. I don't think she's quite there yet."

And then with a flash of green, he too was on his way. A moment later, frowning slightly, Teddy moved to follow.

It seemed that having his parents in his life was going to be rather more complicated than he'd imagined.

---------------------------

Remus sighed.

He was so tired. There wasn't a part of his body that wasn't throbbing, from his battle-earned bruises, from exertion and weariness, from…

_Crimson engulfing him like a surging tide, twisting and tossing his body like a rag doll, snatching at his very soul_…

No_. Don't think about that now. There's too much else to deal with_.

He didn't have time to be tired, he couldn't afford to…dwell. After all, this was going to take some getting used to.

It was their house. The house he had shared with Tonks for those glorious early weeks of their marriage and the rollercoaster months of her pregnancy. It had been his childhood home and the home of his new family in turn, and it was much as they'd left it and yet somehow _not_, some furniture changed, re-covered or replaced entirely, things moved and altered, walls repainted, pictures re-hung, and all scattered with the indelible and rather messy print of a young man living alone.

His son. Teddy.

Less than half a dozen hours ago, he'd held a wriggling baby in his arms and kissed his forehead as farewell. And now…

And now his son had gone to see his _girlfriend_ - Bill Weasley's _daughter_ no less -and didn't seem to be in any doubt that he would be received despite the fact it had gone ten in the evening. When he had mentioned something about a bedroom window catch she regularly left loose for him at night, he had plaintively told Teddy that that was _far_ more than he ever needed to know.

He strongly suspected he wouldn't be seeing Teddy again until the morning.

The thought was downright _disturbing._ But he didn't choose to mention it.

Because twenty years or not, Teddy was still his son. He would just have to get used to that.

And so would Dora.

But there was so much to take in, too much really. They needed to sit down, all three of them, and have a long talk about what had happened, about the _implications_ that were flashing so emphatically through Remus' brain but seemed to have sidestepped his son's altogether. Perhaps he was wrong, but it seemed to Remus that Teddy had come up with a brilliant, carefully orchestrated plan to rescue them and not given more than half a thought to what to do with them _afterwards_.

The boy – the _man_ - was _just_ like his mother.

Dora.

She wasn't coping.

He listened to the tinkling sounds of her shower in the bathroom as he put aside _Wizarding Britain: A Recent History_ and _The Ministry of Magic_ _Official Historical Record: 1998_ and settled back against the head of their old bed in their old room, prepared for them by Teddy in one piece of advance thinking for which Remus was profoundly grateful. The books, the subtle changes to this, the room that had always been their private sanctuary; they were yet another illustration of the daunting amount of things that had changed in so short – and long – a space of time. Remus was honest enough to admit to himself that if it hadn't been for the necessity of watching over Dora, he probably wouldn't have been coping with all this a quarter as well as he apparently was.

_A call, a summons; hints of trees, a flash of so familiar but impossible faces, looking into a pair of determined, terrified green eyes_…

Stop it. Enough.

He had to cope. For Dora.

She was suffering somehow. He wasn't sure exactly why, though there were reasons enough to be had. But he knew he had to help her.

How could he step back when the woman he loved was in pain?

He'd done that too often before. He owed her better.

This has been the strangest day of my life… 

The shower had stopped. He heard the bathroom door click, heard stumbling footsteps, a thud and a mutter of "_bugger!_" before the bedroom door creaked open and Tonks entered, rubbing her chest uncomfortably as she wrinkled her nose and picked awkwardly at her pyjamas.

"Merlin, these smell musty," she muttered irritably as she slumped down on the side of the bed to his left and pulled herself under the sheets. "Mind you, I suppose they have been in the attic for two decades. I guess we should be grateful that mum was a steaming great sentimentalist and kept most of our old clothes up there after…" Her voice trailed away as she rolled herself into a foetal ball, smothering what looked to Remus like a distinctly forced yawn. "I'm so tired," she murmured into the pillow. "Mind you, it's not every day that lasts twenty years so I guess it's to be expected…"

He felt her muscles tighten with tension as he rested one hand gently against her shoulder. "Dora…"

She did not meet his eyes. "I want to go to sleep, Remus."

"I think we need to talk about this."

"I think I'm knackered and need to sleep."

"You're upset. I want to help."

"You can help by letting me sleep."

Remus sighed. _So stubborn_… "And how many times in the last three years have you taken me to task for bottling things up?"

"None. We've been dead for twenty years, remember?"

Remus pulled a face, fighting a sudden flash of concerned irritation. "Dora, for goodness sake, after everything that's happened… I'm worried about you!" His voice dropped as he tightened his hand around her shoulder. "I just want to be sure you're okay. And if you won't tell me what's wrong, I can't help you…"

Her eyes lifted briefly from the shelter of her pillow, killing his sentence cold as they met with his and held. "Please, Remus," she whispered softly, her gaze an unspoken plea that pierced straight through his soul. "Not tonight. I can't do this now. It's too _soon_." Her lips quirked slightly, a little sadly. "How can I tell you what's wrong when I'm not even sure myself?"

Remus could feel himself giving way, falling back, in spite of the fact that the pain he could see in her face was undeniable. "All right. But in the morning…"

"In the morning, I'll see how I feel. If I can work it out." The same sad smile flickered briefly and instinctively Remus slid closer, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her close. He felt her fingers pressing into his back as her hair tickled against his cheek, her body warm against him as her breath rippled against his neck in a soft and soothing breeze. He felt rather than heard her sigh.

"Goodnight Remus."

"Goodnight. And Dora?"

"Mmm?"

"I love you."

Her fingers tightened across his back.

"I love you too," she whispered back with an intense sincerity so deep it almost took his breath away. "And if this whole crazy business really isn't a dream…" Her embrace tightened once more. "I'm so glad I've got you with me. When I thought you were gone, Merlin I was so scared…" He felt her shiver against him. "But that doesn't matter now. Whatever else happens, at least we're in this _together_."

_Red light surrounding him, wracking against his skin, filling his world… Dora's hand ripped away from his as he writhed, lost and alone…_

Remus felt his own hold upon his wife's warm body intensify. "And that," he murmured sincerely in return, "is something to be grateful for."


	8. Memories

**A/N:** Thanks as ever to my beta reader Snorkackcatcher and my Merry Band of Helpers, most notably in this chapter for helping me find a solution to the matter of that trickiest bit of canon to work around... Also grateful thanks of course to everyone who's reviewed. :)

_**7: Memories**_

_A grip upon his shoulder, his wand snatched from his grasp, the air filled with flickering light and a flashing hint of emerald. He could feel Dora's hand clasped desperately in his and then suddenly he was falling, tumbling, shrouded in red light that folded around his body like the coils of some great serpent, crushing his life away. He could feel it squeezing, pulling, twisting and wrenching at his body like a transformation gone terribly wrong and oh sweet Merlin, the _pain_, the pain was tearing him apart, ripping him limb from limb, body and soul alike. A voice screamed, filling his ears with the tortured sound. It was a moment before he realised the scream was his own._

_And then suddenly the grasp on his shoulder and Dora's precious, precious hand were gone._

She's gone. I've lost her. She's gone…

_It was his last coherent thought for quite some time._

_How long did he writhe there, lost in a world of red light, of silver and shadows and rending agony? He didn't know. All he knew was that he was trapped, that some part of him was clamped in place, imprisoned within the rush of light. He could feel a yank, a drag but only parts of him could follow and _oh dear gods_ it was ripping him apart, he was going to tear down the middle and be scattered here, there, everywhere…_

_And then, the pain was gone. His _body_ was gone. _

_The light had torn him out of it._

I'm dead. I must be. My body's gone. I'm dead.

And… 

Someone needs me

_It was like a beacon flashing in the darkness. A call for help._

Harry?

_He followed._

_He remembered only vague hints of what had happened after that. There were trees, the Forbidden Forest, glimpses of Harry's face both terrified and resolved and they had spoken, spoken of Teddy, spoken of death. And there were others, Lily, James, Sirius…_

_And as he had faded back into the trees to let Harry continue, inevitably alone, he had heard their voices whispering, whispering only to him._

"_You shouldn't be here, Remus."_

"_It's not your time, mate, not yet."_

"_Go back to your body, Moony. Follow the call and go back to where you should be…"_

_He tried to speak, to tell them he couldn't go back, he didn't know the way, but suddenly he could feel the pull once more, red light filling his vision and then…_

_Pain. Physical pain._

_Limbs screaming, heart pounding, blood boiling._

_He was back._

_And it felt…different._

_Moonshine. Like moonshine._

_He could feel the scrape of the wolf within his mind, vicious, clawing, yearning to be free as though the moon was high and bright but it was stuck, sealed just beneath the surface like at moonset. His body was shaking with anguish once more but this was not just the serpentine grasp of the light but a more familiar agony, the torment of a change that matched the mental rising of his wolf, but no that wasn't right, there was no moon in this place and he couldn't be transforming if the moon wasn't full, he couldn't, he couldn't, he couldn't…_

_And the light seemed to agree. It pulsed. Contracted. _Screamed.

_And then as though revolted, it spat him out like poison, shrinking away from him, vanishing, dissolving, leaving him teetering, falling, slumping towards the ground, real ground, solid ground that jarred against his body. He felt himself hit the floor, shaking, shuddering as the wolf still fought to surface and he fought to hold it back as he never normally was able and then came soft, familiar hands, a soft, familiar voice, Dora, God it was Dora_…

"Remus! Remus, wake up! _Remus_!"

But the voice was no dream and the hands were there, were real upon his skin…

His eyes flew open.

Dora's dark eyes and tousled hair stared down at him wide-eyed from a couple of inches distance. To judge by the forceful grip that her hands had just taken on his shoulders, she had been on the verge of shaking him awake.

Relief poured across her features. "Remus," she whispered, slumping down against his chest as though her forceful release of breath had drained the energy from her body. "Merlin, Remus, you scared the life out of me!"

"And me." The shaky echo came from the doorway and for a moment Remus almost started, his mind racing – who was this strange young man inside their house, why was he here, what…?

And then his brain kicked in and he remembered.

Battle. Portal. _Son_.

His eyes lifted away from his wife to find Teddy slumped in equal relief against the doorframe, his dishevelled and bizarrely familiar mop of brown hair seeming an odd contrast to the vivid turquoise of earlier that evening. Dressed in untidy sky blue pyjamas, he smiled wanly and gestured over his shoulder.

"I heard you screaming from my room," he said, unable to conceal the shakiness from his tone. "For a minute, I thought…"

Remus blinked as he pulled himself up onto his elbows on the pillow, gently shifting the weight of his wife against his shoulder as he did so. "I was screaming?" he managed hoarsely, wincing as he did so at the dryness of his own throat. Apparently it knew something he didn't.

A heart-shaped face rose sharply into his field of vision. "Yeah, you were screaming." Tonks' voice was oddly breathless. "And shaking and shivering like you were having a seizure, just like you were when…" She swallowed sharply. "It was like when you fell out of that bloody Portal all over again. I thought you were…"

The tremor in her voice was more than enough of an incentive. Ignoring the shakiness in his muscles and bones, and the odd trembling of his nerves, Remus pushed himself up against the headboard and engulfed her in his arms. He felt her face bury into his shoulder, her arms contract around his chest as she squeezed him tightly, her breath a whisper against the skin of his neck. He could feel her shoulders shaking.

"What happened, Remus?" He felt rather than heard the words that slipped through her lips. "Then and now. What happened?"

He could feel the curious burn of his son's gaze over the top of his wife's head. It was a silent reiteration of the same question.

He glanced up at the clock, illuminated by the light creeping through the gap in the thick, dark curtains. 5:30am. _As good a time as any for a family heart to heart, I suppose_.

"Honestly?" he said softly. "I'm not sure." He sighed deeply, fighting to hold down the still lingering panic that had risen within him as the memory had consumed him so vividly. "I was dreaming… well, _remembering_ it just now…" He heard his son's sharp intake of breath, felt his wife's embrace tighten and he increased his own hold upon her in turn. It felt oddly as though he were clinging to a Dora-shaped lifeline that kept him from slipping back into that terrible crashing sea of red. "It was…" He closed his eyes as memories washed over him once more - of astounding pain, of the tearing, of the jerk as his soul seemed to rip free of his body. "Painful. _Very_ painful. After more than thirty years of transformations, I thought I'd experienced everything life could throw at me on that front but that-" he forced himself to breathe out "-was above and beyond."

His wife's lips, cool and soothing, pressed against the skin of his neck. Teddy's eyes met his, brim full of a cocktail of horror, reassurance and guilt.

"Was it kind of… like squeezing? And tearing?" Remus could tell that Teddy was struggling to keep his voice level. "Because I felt it too."

"And me." Dora raised herself away from his shoulder, resting her forehead against his temple, her eyes closed, her features worn. "But I think… because my body's used to being manipulated…"

"It wasn't so bad for you. Either of you." Remus completed the sentence ruefully. "Whereas mine still takes it rather badly even after thirty years of monthly practice. Which is probably how I ended up…well, _stuck_."

Teddy was biting his lip. "I'm _so sorry_," he whispered, gently shaking his head. "If I'd had any idea that was going to happen, I would have…"

"It doesn't matter." As a man highly experienced in the art of self-flagellation, Remus knew it was a good idea for someone to cut off such litanies before they reached full flow. "I'm here now, aren't I? One nightmare doesn't make much difference in the long run."

"A nightmare that was my fault." Teddy sighed and Remus suspected further preventative action would be needed imminently. He was right. "You were stuck in there in unbearable pain because of me and I was next to useless, I couldn't even get you out…"

"It wasn't unbearable," Remus lied calmly and one jab of a small finger told him that his wife at least had seen straight through his attempt to placate their son. "And I had a pretty impressive hallucination that didn't hurt at all so…"

"Hallucination?" He felt Tonks' forehead wrinkle against his face. "What did you see?"

Remus sighed as vivid flashes of the Forbidden Forest and terrified green eyes whipped across his minds eye. "Harry," he answered quietly. "Although I guess that's not really so surprising considering how much he was on my mind that night. I was in the Forbidden Forest with him." He smiled humourlessly. "And since I was pretty convinced I was dead, I managed to conjure up James, Lily and Sirius as well. They told me off for being dead when I shouldn't be and sent me back to my body and the pain." Over by the door, he heard Teddy's abrupt gasp, but before he could muster a glance in his direction, the sorrowful features and deep eyes of his wife filled his vision.

"Oh, Remus," she whispered softly.

He shook his head gently, resting his forehead against hers. "It wasn't so bad," he murmured gently. "Not seeing them, anyway. It was Harry I was worried about. He seemed to think… He was convinced he was going to his death and he wanted us there with him for support. He even asked what dying was like." He felt Dora's hands tighten against him once more. "So as I'm sure you can imagine, it was a bit of a relief last night to hear his voice. That was when I knew the whole wretched thing had all been in my imagination."

"Maybe it wasn't."

At Teddy's uncertain intervention, Remus lifted his head away from Tonks and stared up at his son. Teddy was regarding him with a mixture of shock, awe and thoughtfulness that unnerved Remus to his core. Deep inside, he felt a part of himself shiver.

"What do you mean?" he asked softly.

"It's just…" Teddy frowned tentatively. "It's something Harry told me. He said that when he went to face Voldemort in the Forbidden Forest, his parents, his godfather and…well, _you_, were with him in spirit. And he was very specific about it being the four of you because I asked about mum and he said no, she wasn't there…" He shot Tonks an apologetic glance that she responded to by smiling wanly. "I'd always assumed he meant he'd imagined your presence because he was stressed or something, and used the memory to draw strength; I never _really_ believed you were actually _there_ but…" His lip twisted slightly. "The way he smiled when he said it… I can't help but think now that maybe he really was being…_literal_."

An unnerving combination of the warmth of realisation and the sting of ice-cold fear did battle throughout Remus' body. He felt his breathing hitch. Was that _possible_? Could it have been real, Harry's terror in the forest, his old friends pushing him back to his body, to his _life _when he'd thought both lost to him forever…

"But… how?" It was the most coherent statement he could manage. "How could that…happen? It would mean…" His chest hollowed into a gaping void. "I really was _dead_…"

"Not necessarily." Teddy still hadn't come inside the room, Remus realised distantly. Why did he detach himself so? "Penny told me once that in the moment you step through the red light into the Portal, you touch, just for an instant, all of time and space. And you were _stuck_ there. You said your friends sent you back to your body, right? So that means you felt like you left it?" Remus nodded mutely in response to the question as Teddy ploughed on. "Well, maybe you _did_. Maybe from… wherever you were for those couple of minutes, you could hear Harry when he needed you and you went to him. Maybe." He shrugged slightly. "Or you were hallucinating. I guess Harry's the only person who'd know."

"I suppose so." Remus found himself staring blankly at the bedclothes, his wife's face pressed gently against the side of his own. "Though I'm not sure I like the idea that my spirit went wandering without the rest of me."

Against his cheek, he felt Dora's lips curling into a smile. "At least your spirit had the good sense to go and help Harry," she remarked with a deliberate attempt at lightness that flooded him with gratitude. "I'd be worried about you roaming around in spirit at random. Whether it was real or a hallucination, if you'd have gone on an astral trip to watch naked dancing girls, I'd have demanded a divorce."

"But it wouldn't have mattered since you, my dear, can look like anyone." Remus smiled serenely, seizing the sudden lightening of the mood with both hands. "As far as I'd be concerned, they'd all be you in disguise. Ow!" He jumped sharply at the sharp jab against his still tender and bashed up back. "That was fingernails!"

"Good! Serves you right." Dark eyes twinkled at close range. "If you're thinking about scouting around and then persuading me to morph to satisfy your pervy fantasies, think again Lupin. You're getting nothing but Tonks _au naturale_."

"You should be flattered." Remus grinned, relaxing into familiar banter with profound relief. "It means whenever I admire a beautiful woman, I'm thinking of you."

"Oh, so I'm not beautiful now?"

Oops. The words had come out of her mouth playfully but that was still a spousal bear trap to avoid at all costs. "No," he replied smoothly. "It means that in my fertile imagination, I can't admire any woman without dreaming of her being you."

Tonks gave a distinctly unladylike snort. "I don't think the word _fertile_ is one you should be tossing around lightly. Not considering it took you less than a _month_ to _impregnate _me."

"Excuse me, Mrs Lupin, I believe it takes two to…"

"_Ahem_." The soft, deliberate throat-clearing came from the direction of the doorway. Tearing his eyes away from his wife, Remus found Teddy's cheeks were tinged with pink as he gave a slightly self-conscious wave. "Son still in the room, remember?"

The chuckle slipped out almost unconsciously as he raised an eyebrow in his son's direction. "You can talk, young man. After what you were telling me about Victoire Weasley's window-catch, I'm surprised to see you back tonight at all."

The flush turned rapidly to full crimson, although Remus was surprised and a little contrite to note the almost ashamed downturn of his son's eyes.

"Well, I was tempted," he admitted quietly. "And she was _keen_. But I couldn't really. Not after I'd just spouted off the same barefaced lies to her as I did to Harry. It wouldn't have felt _right_."

Remus felt a warm glow of fatherly pride almost in spite of himself. Maybe he hadn't been able to raise his son himself, but someone had done a reasonable job when they'd set his moral compass. And yes, Teddy had lied to his family and his girlfriend, but it had hurt him like a physical wound to do so, and he'd done it out of love and the need to protect others. That was something that Remus could certainly relate to…

"Wait a minute." Tonks' hands pulled abruptly away as she scuffled to sit upright on the mattress, swivelling to face her grown-up son who was still blushing in the door. Her eyes were narrowed to suspicious slits "This… _window-catch_ business. Is it something… in the _offing _or already a _done deal_?"

Remus had never in his life before seen so much blood drain out of a pair of cheeks so quickly. Teddy went from bright scarlet to deathly pale in the blink of an eye, his eyes stretched so wide with horror that Remus had a brief, ridiculous flash of a brown, double Mad-eyed Alastor Moody. His grasp on the doorframe tightened so sharply Remus was surprised he didn't hear the splintering of wood.

"_Oh well it's late and oh dear, I'm so tired and you must be too, it's been such a long day so why don't I just go and we can all get some sleep, goodnight_!"

The door slammed so hard that the lampshade covering the ceiling light swayed violently above them and the curtains shook, casting crazy dawn light patterns across the room. The books on Remus' bedside table jumped about an inch off the wood.

Settling back against the headboard, Remus crossed his arms and fixed his wife with a long, slow look. She returned his stare defiantly.

"What?" she retorted sharply.

Remus slowly raised an eyebrow. "Congratulations," he drawled dryly. "You can really call yourself a parent now. Because I think you just scarred our son for life."


	9. Damage

**A/N**: As usual, thanks must go to my Merry Band of Helpers, most notably **Snorkackcatcher** for beta-reading and **Celtmama** for helping me out with information regarding the issues Tonks deals with in this chapter, not to mention **Gilpin** and **MrsTater** for their advice regarding the same. Thanks very much guys. :) Warnings should probably go out regarding the fact that this chapter contains my first ever attempt to imply anything more intimate than kissing is going on (though it's utterly lightweight and unspecific stuff because I'm far too easily embarrassed to ever write the whole hog! ;p) and also includes references to post-baby female issues such as breastfeeding. I should also warn folks though - my writing and posting rate is liable to slow considerably from here on in as I'm entering the busy induction period at the college where I work. Wish me luck!

_**8: Damage**_

Remus couldn't help but feel it had been an odd kind of ridiculously early morning. He'd been woken from a dream/memory in which he had recalled going for a wander on the astral plane while his body suffered terrible agonies, and then he'd talked to three dead friends and his son's godfather. He had flirted shamelessly with Dora in his son's distinctly embarrassed presence and now…

And now he knew far more about Teddy's personal life than he really wanted to because his wife just _had_ to know.

And it wasn't even 6am yet.

"_He's_ scarred for life?" With a mighty frown, Tonks hurled herself down onto the bedspread, staring with distinct disquiet at the door through which Teddy had just fled in horror from his mother's not so discreet inquiry. "Good God, Remus, weren't you listening? Did you not catch the subtle implication? Our son…"

"…Is not a virgin." Remus shrugged his shoulders slightly. "Yes, I was paying attention."

Tonks' dark eyes regarded him balefully from the folds of the eiderdown. "And this fact doesn't bother you at all?"

"Well, it's rather bruising to my ego to know he beat me by at least a good decade and a half but…"

The pillow slapped him in the face with rather more force than Remus felt was necessary and stung slightly against his still fresh bruises. A heart-shaped face thrust in to fill his sight once more, her eyes alight with the same array of conflicting emotions that had worried him so much in the Atrium the night before.

"Our son, Remus!" There was an edge to her voice that immediately got his attention. "The baby we held in our arms! He has a _sex life_! He's old enough to have kids of his own! Sweet Merlin, we've barely become parents! We're too young to be _grandparents _too!"

Remus felt a twinge of mathematical correctness he probably should have resisted. "Well, technically, _I'm_ not…"

"Take that sentence any further, Lupin, and I will beat you to death." The sincerity of her gaze put paid to any hope Remus had of trying to lighten the mood, or swing the conversation in the direction of quiet reason and a much needed talk about their circumstances. He sighed.

It _was _strange. He'd have been a liar of the highest order to say it wasn't. The whole situation was so far beyond any comfort zone he'd ever known that it was almost laughable. But when all was said and done, Teddy was still _his son_. And he was happy, he was clever, he was well adjusted and well grounded… After the intensity of his fears during the pregnancy, his horror of the life of prejudice and ill-treatment Teddy might face growing up as a werewolf's son, to have him standing before him, fully grown, well employed, in love and just _fine_…

He could live with strange. In exchange for that, he could live with anything.

"…with _Victoire Weasley_." It took Remus a moment to realise that his wife had continued the conversation without him, crossing her arms over her chest as she settled upright on the bed once more with a truculent look on her face. "I mean that's got to be Bill and Fleur's daughter, hasn't it? And I mean Bill's okay but _Fleur_… I mean, she's not so bad these days but there were times when she could be such a spoiled brat of a _princess _and if someone like that has got her hooks into my _baby_…"

"He's not a baby, Dora."

"…I'll tear out her liver with my _teeth _and feed it to _you_ next full moon…"

His hands caught her wrists, stilling her gesticulations. Her voice tailed away into nothing as her dark eyes reluctantly rose to meet his intent stare.

"Dora," he repeated softly. "He's not a baby. Not anymore. And I know it's tough, but you've got to accept that." He squeezed her wrists gently. "We haven't got much _choice_."

Turbulence roiled within her eyes, a maelstrom of emotion tumbling, battling, unable to settle and calm into any one stream of feeling. Their look seemed to last a small eternity.

And then, out of nowhere, she _lunged_.

Remus felt the back of his skull strike the headboard with a painful crack but the sting, along with the aches of battle, vanished sharply from his mind as her lips crashed down on his, searching, invading and her hands were roaming suddenly over his body, under his clothes, against his skin and _ohsweetmerlin_…

"Dora!" Remus barely realised that he had pushed her away until he saw the sharp surge of hurt in her eyes, and felt the vigorous complaints of his body about the sudden loss of contact. The several months of enforced celibacy that had recently followed in the wake of last year's glorious renaissance in their love life were hammering ruthlessly at certain parts of Remus' anatomy, demanding that he shut the hell up, lie back and think of England. But his conscience and the profound disquiet that nagged at it had found a larger drum to beat.

Because as much as he wanted it, it just didn't feel _right._ It was like Teddy had said – he couldn't stay with Victoire when he'd been lying to her. And after the talk he and Tonks had had on this very subject just two days ago…

"Dora," he repeated, fighting to bring his breathing back into some kind of order. "What are you doing?"

An eyebrow arched. "Remus, it hasn't been _that_ long. And besides, it's like riding a broomstick…"One small hand came to rest once more against his chest; slowly, but surely, it drifted south. "You never forget how…"

_Life is just not fair_ _sometimes_.

Regretfully, he caught her fingers before they could stray into dangerous territory. "Forgetting is not the issue," he informed her, rather proud of the level edge he instilled into his tone. "_Remembering _is. And I'm remembering the conversation we had in bed a couple of nights ago. The one where you said you hoped I didn't mind you not feeling ready to resume a physical relationship just yet because you still felt a bit odd about it after giving birth to Teddy?"

Something flickered in her eyes but it passed too quickly for Remus to accurately read. Her free hand, which had until that moment been resting on his upper leg, began to make an equally perilous journey north.

_Scratch not fair. Downright bloody cruel is closer_…

"But it wasn't a couple of days, was it?" She was smiling, but he found no joy in the expression because something about it seemed off balance, forced, not quite _her _somehow. "It was twenty years ago plus a _long _couple of months. And that, Mr Lupin, is an awfully long time for someone to go without…"

The ruthless advance of the second hand was hurriedly halted at the gates. "I've managed it before."

"Until you met me."

"That didn't mean I'd never wanted to, that I'd never had the chance. I resisted because I knew it was the right thing to do. I tried to resist you, if you remember."

"You didn't know what you were missing."

He couldn't help himself. "I found out."

Her smile deepened. "I think you need a reminder."

He'd let go of her hands. It was a mistake.

For the second time in as many minutes, Remus felt his skull ricochet painfully off the headboard. It was just the reality check he needed.

"_No_! Nymphadora!"

The calculated use of her hated full name was just the distraction he'd hoped for. As her eyes snapped up furiously, he grabbed the covers and scooted rapidly to a safe distance.

He could feel her eyes upon him. He could feel the burning of her hurt.

Why did she have to do this? Why did she have to make me say no? 

"You don't want me anymore." _Oh please no, don't take it that way_… "Is that it? You don't find me attractive now I've popped out your kid? You…"

There was no way he was prepared to let her build up a head of steam on _that _angle. "Dora, continue that line of thought and it'll be my turn to beat _you_ to death. That's not what this is about and you _bloody well_ know it."

The force of his tone sucked the indignant-fuelled wind from her sails. "Then what the hell is the problem?"

He stared her straight in the eyes, unflinching. "You're not ready for this."

There was a long moment of silence. It was Tonks who broke it, forcing out an incredulous laugh; but it was a half-hearted effort at best, as if sensing the futility of resistance. "You were paying attention to the part when I tried to seduce you, right?"

He allowed himself a half-hint of a smile. "Oh, I was. I _definitely_ was. Several parts of me were quite demanding in their need to give you their full attention." She returned his wan smile with one of her own, but her eyes were suddenly sad. "But I think you know that this isn't really what you want. You told me as much a couple of days ago. You weren't feeling up to it then, and twenty years or not, physically I can't see what would have changed. I think you're trying to hide how you're feeling behind wanting to make love to me. And if I go along with that…" He shook his head. "Dora, I'd just be taking advantage. And how could I do that to you?"

And Tonks burst into tears.

He closed the distance between then instantly, pulling her into his arms as she collapsed against his chest, sobbing as though her heart would break as she clung to his pyjamas, her face burying itself into the crook of his neck once more. He could feel her body shaking against him as he held her close, rocking her gently and waited for the words he knew, just knew would come.

"I don't want to feel the same!" He heard her gasp the sentence out between racking sobs, her voice muffled against his pyjamas but not enough to matter. "I can't _stand_ feeling the same! I want to feel different! Why can't I feel different?"

"Different how?" Merlin, it was hard seeing her suffer like this but she'd been teetering on the edge since they'd got here and she had to let it out, had to let it go or she'd never be able to move on…

"It's telling me _baby_!" He could feel her gasping for breath as the tears soaked his shoulder. "Every fibre of me is going _baby, baby, baby_! Find the baby, hold the baby, protect the baby, _feed _the baby; my chest is killing me and I keep leaking frigging _milk _everywhere, it's _ridiculous_! But there _is no_ baby! There's _no baby_, Remus, just a grown man and I keep telling myself that but my body won't listen to me, why won't it _listen?_ And I don't know him! He's my baby and I never saw him grow up and I can never hold him or feed him or look into his eyes and imagine his future because it _is_ his future and he got here without me! He wanted to meet me, he cared enough to save me, but he doesn't need me, not like he did, not anymore! His life's happened and I've missed it! I didn't hear his first words or see his first steps! I didn't watch him open his Hogwarts letter – gods, I don't even know what house he was in! And he seems so wonderful and I want to know him so much but every time I look at him, I feel my body going _find the baby, feed the baby_ and I can't stand it, I just can't! It's like I've lost him, like I'm mourning him but he's still alive and I don't know what to feel or what to do! And so I thought… I thought maybe if I could make love to you, if I could feel like a _wife_ again, I'd stop feeling like a mother who'slost her baby boy…"

There was nothing he could say. How could he relate to this? How could he say he knew, it was all right, he understood and all the other platitudes when he didn't have a clue?

So he just held her tight against him and let her cry until the tears ran dry.

It was all he had to offer. But when she finally drew back from him and smiled wanly through her tear-stained face, gazing up at him with eyes full with sorrow, grief, loss but relief and acceptance too, he knew it had been enough.

She wasn't fine, not yet. It was too soon for that.

But he knew now that she would be.

---------------

Perhaps volunteering to make breakfast hadn't been such a good idea.

It had seemed sensible enough at the time, in spite of the achy protests of his body at the prospect of doing anything remotely involving effort until at least next Christmas. Teddy, after all, had to get ready for work and Dora and the kitchen had never mixed particularly well when she was in the best of moods, never mind when she was so fragile emotionally. And though Remus was hardly a gourmet chef, twenty years of bachelorhood had given him a certain degree of kitchen survival skill to fall back on.

But right now, it wasn't helping, because he couldn't find a damned thing that he needed.

It had been overoptimistic to assume that everything would be much as he'd left it. But still, it had been rather disheartening when he'd first opened the low-level cupboard where they had chosen to store the crockery, pots and pans at a nice safe, bounce-not-break level for Tonks' sake, and found instead tins and cereal. The cupboard where the mugs and glasses had always been contained plates. The cupboard where the tins and cereal had been was rigged with the cooling charm to preserve fresh items. There was no sign of the pots and pans at all.

Fortunately at that moment, Teddy had appeared fresh from the shower, wrapped in his dressing gown and drying his hair with a rainbow striped towel, and after settling at the table with his mother, had kindly offered directions.

"Frying pan?"

"Left cupboard above the stove."

"Bacon?"

"Chill-charmed cupboard under the window."

"Tomatoes?"

"Basket by the windowsill."

"Eggs?"

"Haven't got any. I can't stand them."

"I knew my son would have good taste." Tonks grinned with apparent sincerity at him as she sipped the glass of milk she'd just retrieved at Teddy's direction, tapping it with her wand to activate the _Magic Choco-Swirls – just tap and taste!_ advertised on the carton. "I can't stand them either. Remus just laps them up but me? Urgh, no thanks."

Remus shot his wife a playful look of reproach and she replied with a grin. If Teddy had noticed the blotchy red stains on his mother's face that morning, he'd been diplomatic enough not to mention them; and Remus could tell that after the release of frustration and grief Dora had indulged in the night before, she was now making a concerted effort to ignore the commands of her body and get to know the son she had, rather than mourn a baby lost. And it was so easy here in their old kitchen to slip back into old habits and old ways, even if nothing was exactly where they'd put it and a strange-but-familiar young man sporting bright purple hair was toying with a milk carton at the table.

Teddy smiled as his eyes flicked over to where Remus was lurking by the stove. "Are you sure you don't want me to do that?" he asked in sudden concern. "You must be tired and I don't exactly feel like much of a host."

Remus shrugged slightly. "And I don't want to feel like a guest. Besides, breakfast seems a small price to pay to someone who saved my life."

Teddy flushed distinctly but did not comment on the observation. "Still..." he started. "You were in a _battle _yesterday. All I did was go to work and break a few laws of time."

Tonks chuckled into her milk. "Put it like that and our battle sounds deathly dull. Let him cook, Teddy. He's not happy unless he's pottering about doing something and you'll never get him to sit on his backside and be waited on. It's not in his nature."

With a spitting sizzle, Remus deposited three strips of bacon into the hot frying pan. "Thank you for that astute summation of my character, darling."

Tonks gulped down a milky Choco-Swirl with a grin. "Don't mention it, dearest. I live to sing your praises."

Glancing over his shoulder from the stove, Remus spotted the enormous grin his son was sporting. "Are we amusing you?" he asked cheerfully. "That's it, isn't it? You brought us back for the free entertainment."

"No, no." The grin grew, if possible, even wider. "It's just…" He laughed suddenly. "You're _here._ I'm sitting down having breakfast with _my parents_ and you're laughing and smiling and joking about eggs and messing around… And it's _family_. I mean I love Gran so much but she's never been one of life's great jokers, and Harry and the Weasleys have always been so good to me but I never quite felt I was _theirs_ somehow, I was always slightly outside even though they never meant me to be. But this…" He laughed again, a sound of pure delight. "It's _my_ family. And I only met you properly yesterday and I know we've got so much still to work out but Merlin, it feels so _right_. And I'm so _happy_."

Remus could feel his own grin stretching as he stared into his son's joyful face, but it was Tonks who reacted first; abandoning her chair, she moved quickly and only stumbled slightly before she reached Teddy and flung her arms around his neck.

The joy on his son's face at that moment could have lit the world from pole to pole.

Breakfast moved quickly after that, and Remus' rather burnt bacon and singed tomatoes were nonetheless consumed with great gusto by all concerned. Teddy had been distinctly reluctant to go into work and leave them, especially when they still had so much to discuss, but Tonks talked him out of owling in sick by suggesting an even better scheme.

"Just morph some spots," she told him cheerfully. "And add more every half an hour or so. And then make yourself paler, maybe add a tinge of green and by the time a couple of hours have passed, they'll be sending you home sick as fast as they can. No awkward questions, no checking up and you can play the martyr, say you're fine and you just want to press on but no, they'll insist, you're not well, you need some rest and no one's going to wonder because they've seen it for themselves. Trust me." She winked broadly. "It works every time."

Remus fixed her with a long, slow look. "Why do I suspect I'm hearing the voice of experience?"

Tonks beamed at him. "Because you're a smart man, Remus, that's why."

Remus shook his head, fighting to hold back a grin. "I married an evil woman," he remarked mournfully.

Tonks laughed outright. "Well, maybe that'll teach you to succumb to my wicked blandishments, won't it?"

Teddy was smiling too. "I'll give it a go. Here, how's this?"

Several nasty coloured spots popped into place on his cheeks. His skin turned an interesting mixture of puce and pale green.

Tonks examined his effort critically. "Tone it down a bit," she advised. "You can go for the money after you've been there for a short while."

Remus shook his head in weary resignation. "I'm going to finish my reading. You two enjoy your plotting."

He had been settled on the sofa in the lounge for perhaps ten minutes with _Wizarding Britain: A Recent History _when Teddy appeared from the kitchen looking just slightly revolting.

"What do you think?" he asked happily, giving his father a mock twirl. "Sick enough?"

Remus regarded Teddy with serious eyes. "Teddy, when it comes to your mother, nothing is sick enough."

Fortunately for his persona of illness, Teddy had managed to stop laughing before he stepped into the Floo and disappeared to the Ministry in a flare of emerald.

Tonks flopped down beside Remus on the sofa and offered a gentle smile. "It's going to be all right, isn't it?" she said softly. "He's a good lad. And he's right, this morning felt so much like _family_…" She sighed deeply. "I still feel bloody _strange _about everything though. And I can't keep morphing my chest to release the pressure of this ruddy milk or I'm going to end up looking like a cow with two enormous udders dangling from her…"

Wincing slightly, Remus hurriedly raised one hand. "Too much information, love," he informed her, shifting uncomfortably as she gave a quiet laugh, apparently amused by the look on his face. "Isn't there a spell or a potion or something you could use to ease that?"

Tonks frowned, her nose wrinkling slightly. "I'm not sure. I didn't exactly want to tempt fate by looking up spells and potions to use if the baby didn't…" She broke off and sighed again, her expression fraught with awkward disquiet; putting his book to one side, Remus reached over and pulled her into an embrace. "I saw all our baby books up in the attic when I got my pyjamas. I guess I could take a look and see what I can find." Shifting in her arms, her eyes rose to meet his and in their depths he found a sincerity and desperation so deep it was almost staggering. "I _want_ to feel all right, Remus," she whispered intently. "I want to feel _normal _again. I don't want my stupid hormones to get in the way of us being a real, proper family." She snorted slightly. "A _weird as hell_ family, but a family all the same. I want us to be okay."

Tenderly, he tightened his grasp upon her, resting his chin gently in her soft hair as he felt her nose burrow against his neck. "Don't worry," he murmured gently in reply. "We will be. We're going to be fine."

-------------

The first test of that statement came an hour later.

After raiding the attic for their old baby books, Tonks had settled down on their bed upstairs to seek out a spell or potion that might at least help ease her discomfort. So Remus was alone, settled with his reading material in the lounge, when the fireplace had flared emerald once more. When Teddy had first stepped out of the Floo, Remus had started to smile as he'd set the book aside, had half-opened his mouth to compliment his son on the effectiveness of the ashen face and colourless hair in his deception. But then he'd seen his trembling hands, his wide horrified eyes, and all thoughts of levity had been abandoned.

"Teddy." His hands caught his son's shoulders at once as the deathly pale features snapped up to face him. "Teddy, what's wrong?"

For a moment, his son's mouth could only work soundlessly, his body shaking like a leaf, his face riddled with horror, sorrow and overwhelming guilt. But Remus' firm grasp upon his shoulders seemed to calm him as he gasped for air and finally managed to speak.

"I…" he stammered. "Dad, I…oh Merlin…"

Alarm was flooding through Remus body. "What's the matter?" he repeated softly. "Teddy, what's happened?"

And then Teddy met his eyes, his gaze so stricken that it almost knocked Remus backwards.

"Dad," he whispered, his voice trembling. "I think I might have just got Penny Weasley _killed_."


	10. Through the Looking Glass

**A/N:** Thanks as ever go to all who reviewed and to my Merry Band of Helpers for helping me sort of the ins and outs of the Portal and to Snorkackcatcher for the beta. This chapter takes a little step back to see the events of the morning in the Department of Mysteries from Teddy's POV. :)

_**9: Through the Looking Glass**_

Teddy knew something was wrong the moment he stepped out of the Time Division corridor and into the office of the Historical Records Section. Most notably, it had gone nine in the morning but no one had yet touched the coffee.

He'd intended to be early. He'd never beat Rajesh of course, who generally showed up at least half an hour before he needed to, but he'd meant to get in before everyone else to check the state of the Portal once more, to be standing there and waiting, with his broken amulet to hand and an apologetic expression of confusion on his face, when Penny and the others arrived to find their gateway to the past was acting strangely. He'd meant to have time to _think_.

Instead, he'd got so caught up in that breakfast, a _family _breakfast cooked by his _dad_, and in playing at morphing spots and pallor with his mother – Merlin, he'd never had _anyone_ to talk to with experience of morphing before and she was his _mum _– that instead of being early, he had been forced to rush through the corridors after Flooing into the Atrium and realising he was _late_.

And one look at the faces of his co-workers was enough to tell Teddy that the Portal had not righted itself overnight.

Bert and Rajesh, huddled together over a vast leather tome that Teddy recognised as the designers' notes for the Portal, both looked up sharply as their young colleague stumbled into the office, rather dishevelled and distinctly out of breath. Lucy was settled at her desk in the middle of the room - touching up her lipstick by hand as usual, since the Portal would strip away any glamour charm she tried - but the air of distraction with which she held the stick and mirror was very different from the usual intensity she devoted to such important business. Rose, sorting through a pile of papers, was the only person to offer Teddy a smile, but it was wan, and tinged with more than a little concern as she abandoned her apparently fruitless task and came to her feet.

"Teddy," she said with an air of weariness. "We were wondering for a minute if you were going to call in sick. And actually…" Her eyes narrowed as she scrutinised his features. "You do look a little pale, dear. Are you okay?"

Teddy shook his head as he dropped into his chair near the door, rubbing one hand across his forehead.

"I do feel a bit rough," he admitted, with the air of one who felt the admission a nuisance. "That's why I overslept this morning. But something strange happened last night when I was using the Portal, so I knew that I'd have to come in…"

Four heads snapped instantly in his direction.

"Strange how?" Rajesh abandoned the huge book that was dominating his desk in the near corner and moved over to perch himself on the edge of Teddy's instead. As his desk was so near both the door and the coffee pot, it was a situation that the young man had long become accustomed to. "Only we came in this morning to find it playing up something chronic, humming and spitting out energy all over the place, and the hourglasses all out of whack. It's never done that before." He shook his head. Teddy knew that along with Bert and Penny, Rajesh had been one of the principal people involved with the Portal's development, and he tended to regard any mishap or fault in its makeup as a personal affront. "Penny and Dennis are in the Portal chamber with Edgar right now looking it over but we're all at a loss. So anything you can tell us about last night…"

Teddy bit his lip. _Well, you see I morphed to break the passivity field so I could grab my dead parents out of the past and although my dad got stuck for a while, they're both back now and I had breakfast with them this morning which made me late_…

Yep. That'd go down great.

And since the truth had long been established as not an option, a little pre-planned creativity seemed in order.

"I'm not really sure what happened," he said with a weary air as he rested his chin in his hands and plonked his elbows onto the desktop, subtly willing a little more colour out of his skin as he spoke. "I was using the Portal just the same as always, when my amulet started to shudder and suddenly the field felt like it was _squeezing_ me, so of course, I got out straight away. But not before _this _happened." With a sigh, he drew his broken amulet out of his robes and handed it to a wide-eyed Rajesh. "Next thing I knew, the Portal was humming and looking distinctly unfriendly. I meant to come in early and tell you and Penny all about it, but I overslept and when I woke up feeling so crappy…"

Rajesh waved the rest of the explanation away as he all but snatched the cracked amulet out of Teddy's palm, turning it over in his fingers with an expression that mingled curiosity, disbelief and bewilderment. A moment later, both Bert and Rose had joined him, peering over his shoulders at the broken gemstone nestled in his hands. Only Lucy remained at her desk, although even she was regarding Teddy and his companions with some interest.

"That's not right." Bert was shaking his head in confusion. "That's just… There's no _way_ that should happen…"

Rose's freckled, friendly face looked odd contorted into a frown. "Could the gem have been damaged? Or a natural flaw in the crystal maybe?"

Rajesh was staring down at the battered amulet with a certain hint of offence. "I made this batch of amulets myself. I double – no, _triple_ – checked every one before casting the charms."

"Wear and tear?" Lucy suggested suddenly from the other side of the office, abandoning her seat at last to join the intense little huddle. "My boyfriend Kevin up in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures is always complaining how easily the cages and harnesses of the Capture Team get worn out by constant contact with magical beasts, in spite of all the protective charms cast on them. And those amulets have been through a lot of magical stress in the last couple of years…"

"Maybe…" Rajesh didn't look convinced, his fingers still rubbing over the rough edges of the cracks. "And if the amulet was faulty, it would explain why the field started to collapse on you, Teddy. Bert, have another look in the notes, see what it says about the dealer we imported these gems from. I need to show this to Penny."

Rajesh slid off the desk and moved quickly out of the door in the direction of the Portal room. Bert made his way back over to the giant leather book, nose wrinkling thoughtfully, unnaturally quiet as he settled back at Rajesh's desk and started leafing through the pages. However Lucy and Rose both lingered by Teddy, regarding his artful paleness with creased brows and pursed lips.

"Teddy, don't take this the wrong way, but you look _awful_." Lucy leaned forwards, her curly blonde hair bobbing around her face as she looked him over. "Are you sure you should be here?"

_No, I should be home with my parents talking about what the heck we're going to do, but I can't afford that yet. An hour or so, just an hour, just until I've answered all their questions; if I let them send me home sooner, someone might come to my house to ask instead and find rather more than they bargained for_…

"Not really." Teddy pulled a plaintive face. "But I can't go home until this is sorted, can I?"

Rose, who was wearing an expression more than a little reminiscent of Molly Weasley, seemed inclined to disagree. "But still, I'm sure if Penny has any questions she can Floo over to your house to ask. Or maybe we could call your Gran…"

Teddy quickly cut off that train of thought. "Don't bother Gran with this, she's been ill recently and I don't want to risk her catching anything. I'm a big boy now." He shook his head dejectedly. "And anyway, Rose, I'm here now, aren't I? I might as well see it through while I'm still up and about."

A mug was plonked down on his desk, overflowing with milky brown liquid – Lucy, it seemed, had decided that raiding the hitherto unbothered coffee pot was the answer. "Drink up," she commanded with a smile. "Caffeine solves all the world's ills."

Teddy grinned in spite of himself. "I thought that was chocolate."

Lucy snorted. "Not in _this_ office."

Obediently, Teddy lifted the mug and took a hearty slurp. He'd never been much of a coffee drinker but it seemed that one of the greatest mysteries of a Department built upon such things was why no one else here seemed able to get by without it. It was just one of those things.

He glanced up from the warming beverage to find Rose regarding him with uncertainty. Another frown had creased her freckled brow.

"Teddy," she ventured softly. "If you don't mind me saying – are you sure you aren't just overtired? Only I know you've stayed late a lot of nights this last month and Penny told me that you've got permission to work on some private project but are you sure you're not wearing yourself out? Is this project worth it? What's so important anyway?"

_Oh, it's worth it. And it's more important than you'll ever know_.

Teddy frowned, trying to find a way to skirt the issue, but the creak of the door to the Portal room and Penny's familiar voice, calling out to Rajesh that she'd be back in a moment saved him from having to formulate an answer. A few seconds later, she appeared by his desk, the broken amulet cradled in her hands. Her expression was oddly stiff.

"Teddy," she said, addressing him with a formality that he could only suspect did not mean anything good. "Can I please have a word with you in my office?"

_Uh oh_.

He did his best to nod with apparent innocence as he came to his feet and followed her across the room to the door of her private office, his heartbeat thumping in his ears, his blood racing. Did she know? Had she worked it out, worked out what he'd done and how he'd done it? Was he about to be blamed for the damage to the Portal? Was he about to be thrown in prison for breaking the absolute law?

And what would become of his parents if he were?

Closing the door quietly, Penny tapped her fingers on the damaged amulet as she turned to the pale young man her spousal family had always regarded as one of their own, and sighed.

"Teddy," she said softly. "I need you to tell me exactly what happened."

He told the tale as best he could, a story of truth by omission – he'd gone back one final time, a last goodbye to his parents before stepping away from haunting their past, and while he'd been there, the field had started to close on him and squeeze on him, the amulet had shattered and he'd been forced to flee, leaving the Portal in the same odd state in which it had apparently been found that morning. It was much as it had truly been, the tale he told, but for the crucial removal of any mention of his parents or his mission to save them. By the time his recital was done, Penny was staring grimly down at her desktop with narrowed eyes.

"And that's really all that happened?" she queried softly, her voice not quite concealing an alarming edge of suspicion. "Because Teddy…" Her eyes rose, meeting his with deliberate firmness, and it was all he could do to hold her gaze, to try to smile and pretend that all was well. "Do you remember the discussion we had about you morphing inside the Portal? How we agreed it was to be avoided?"

A cold wash of fear slithered its way down Teddy's spine. "Of course."

"It's just…" It was there, behind her eyes, suspicion ticking away like a bomb as her mind fitted together the pieces. _She's sussed it. She's worked out how the Portal could have got damaged and she knows it could only be _me. _And maybe I'm not the only one who's worked out what could happen, maybe she knows too that I could touch the past_… "Teddy, I've looked into what effects your morphing inside the Portal could have." _Oh sweet Merlin_… "And it could be dangerous, _very_ dangerous indeed, for you and anyone else who's there with you." One hand rose gently, resting softly and compassionately across his wrist. "I don't want to risk losing you from the Section, Teddy – you're an excellent researcher with a good grasp of history and you work hard and well. But if it turns out that you've disobeyed an explicit request I made for your own safety…" She sighed deeply, but her intense, uncomfortably probing gaze did not waver. "I need you to tell me honestly; did you morph inside the Portal last night?"

_Oh no. Not again_.

_I lied to Harry. I lied to Victoire. Can I look Penny in the eye and lie to her as well? Gods, all I need is to lie to Gran and I'll have the set_…

_But it's for mum and dad. Maybe she'll accept it if I just say_…

"I said I wouldn't, didn't I?" He'd held her gaze. That was important. He'd maintained a look of serious sincerity. But Penny's eyes were narrowing once more and the sight of it was chilling.

She knew. She knew he'd dodged the question. Truth by omission turned on its head; what he hadn't said had told her the rest.

_Oh God, oh no, oh God_… Ice shivers wracked Teddy's bones. _Maybe if I say I was experimenting but nothing happened, maybe she won't realise the truth and I'll just get a rap on the wrist or at worst I'll be fired, but mum and dad will be safe and okay…_

"Penny?" The rap on the door that shattered the terrifying silence could not have been more fortuitously timed. Dennis did not wait for a reply, simply pushing the door open and peering round it as Penny tore her eyes away from Teddy and swung them in his direction.

"Bert and Rajesh think they've fixed it," he exclaimed, apparently oblivious to the depths of tension he'd just shattered. "At least, Rajesh says they've balanced the hourglasses again and Bert's purged out that bloody hum. They reckon Teddy had a dodgy amulet and it threw the passivity field out of alignment when it cracked under the stress. But Bert said you didn't want anyone going in to test it except you so…"

"Yes, of course." Still fingering the broken amulet, Penny turned towards the door, pausing only to glance with steely eyes over her shoulder. "Teddy, come with me if you would."

The thoughts of a quick escape that had been shimmering unbidden in Teddy's mind, came apart like sodden paper. Apparently, it wasn't going to be that easy.

And so, mind whirling and heart pounding, Teddy followed Penny and Dennis back through the office, smiling half-heartedly at Rose and Lucy as his mind raced from one scenario to the next - getting punished, getting fired, getting locked up, watching as they tossed his parents back to their deaths to correct a history not even damaged, before dragging him off to Azkaban…

_No. No, I can't let them_.

_But how can I stop it now? All I can do is take the blame and pray my parents won't be found_…

They had reached the Portal room by now, where Rajesh and Bert were waiting with an unusually sombre Edgar Fortescue at their side. In spite of Dennis' proclamation that the Portal had been fixed, the air in the room felt heavy, sickly and though the noise of the hum had vanished, he could almost feel it silently rippling in his bones. No, no, it still wasn't right…

Penny's shiver implied that she felt it too, but nonetheless she got straight to the point, taking an undamaged amulet out of Bert's outstretched hand and fitting it to her wrist. "Have you set a test destination?"

Rajesh looked distinctly uncomfortable. "Not yet. But Penny, I don't think this is a good idea, it still feels off to me…"

Penny regarded him from under raised brows. "Rajesh, is there any more we can do to the Portal now? Is there any charm or fix we know of that we haven't tried already?"

"Well, no, but…"

"And is there any other way to tell from here exactly what is going on?"

"Probably not, but if we gave it a little more time… It's only been a couple of hours since I got in and found it like this…"

Penny secured the amulet with a final tug and looked up to meet the eyes of her friend and workmate. "Rajesh, you and I know this Portal back to front and inside out. And we both know that the only way to really get to the bottom of what's going on is for someone to go inside. And that's my responsibility."

Rajesh sighed in apparent submission, but Edgar was not so easily dissuaded.

"But if it's still damaged, Penelope, just barrelling in…" He smiled wryly. "Health and safety will have my head if you get blown up."

Penny smiled gently in return. "We've balanced it, Edgar. As long as it's balanced, I should be fine. Trust me. Now Bert, if you would set me a destination, I'd be most grateful."

Bert didn't seem any more convinced than his two colleagues, but he was also a man who knew a losing battle when he saw one. "Got one in mind?"

Teddy felt rather than saw Penny's eyes shift slightly in his direction. "The simplest possible. This room, last night. If nothing else, I might see something that helps us learn what happened."

The cold shivers turned instantly glacial. _She'll see them. Oh Merlin, she'll see them, she'll know_…

He wanted to shout. He wanted to scream. He wanted to leap forwards, drag her back, prevent her from stepping through the shimmering curtain that had just flickered into uncertain life before she saw his secret, saw his parents, saw what he'd done and condemned them all…

But the freezing cold had trapped him. He couldn't move, couldn't do a single thing but watch, watch Dennis standing just to his left, watch Bert and Rajesh exchange a worried glance as they moved back from the archway, watch Edgar, pale and silent just near the corridor entrance as Penny walked over to the Portal, her face stern and resolved as she stepped inevitably forwards…

And the world slipped into slow motion.

He heard the sound first, that terrible, physical sound that battered against his eardrums and drove him back against the wall with a bruisingly painful _thud_. He saw Dennis tumble to the ground, saw Edgar reeling backwards, Bert stumbling over his robes as he fell and Rajesh shouting, screaming, his words ripped away, inaudible over the sudden din as he fought to batter his way forwards through the raging barricade of noise. The curtain was twisting and writhing and he could see Penny caught within its grasp, a silhouette just as his dad had been, as the serpentine red light tore and seared its way around her suddenly frozen body. And then, with an agonising pulse of scarlet, every hourglass on the arch _exploded_.

"_Protego_!" Teddy had absolutely no idea how the hell he managed to get hold of his wand, let alone erect the spell he needed, but the invisible barrier shot up just in time to shield both him and Dennis from the sudden rain of glassy shrapnel hurtling through the air. Bert, it seemed, was less lucky – Teddy heard the older man cry out in pain from the other side of the chamber. A flurry of robes told Teddy that Edgar had successfully dived through the door into the corridor, and a distant slam told him Rajesh had managed the same with the office access. The tinkle of raining glass and falling sand filled the room for an eternal moment longer as the red glow dimmed, faded and allowed normal sight, normal, sound, normal time to resume once more.

Penelope Weasley lay spread-eagled at the centre of a fan of broken glass and red scorches, her amulet shattered and smoking, her body pockmarked with blisters of blood against skin that was utterly, deathly pale. She was motionless.

_Oh god. What have I done? Penny, what have I _done?

The world became a blur, a raging torrent of sight and sound. It began with Rajesh's horrified cry as he rushed back from the office door and hurtled to her side, with Rose and Lucy a step behind as they stared in bewildered horror at the devastation laid out before them. Edgar stood frozen in the doorframe, hands clasped across his mouth but as curious faces from other Divisions began to cluster in the corridor behind him, he turned and started barking orders to call St Mungo's, find a Healer, get a stretcher, get _Percy_, for God's sake get some _help_. Dennis had rushed over to the bloodstained Bert, but he insisted the damage was superfluous, that it was nothing, that they should help Penny, they had to help Penny…

Rajesh's voice cut frantically through the chaos. Penny wasn't breathing. What should he do, what should he do?

_I've killed her. I broke the Portal out of selfish need and Gods, I've killed her for it_…

Elijah Whistler the Potions Master shoved his way inside in a flourish of stained robes and grasped vials, Petroc Mercer from the Thought Division a step behind. Edgar was rushing Petroc forward for yes, he could help, he'd been a healer in Spell Damage before he'd taken a position studying memory and brainpower in the Department of Mysteries…

Spells and potions, one after another, frantically, desperately applied. A charm to force air into her lungs, to massage her heart into beating, potions to cure shock, to revive someone near death…

Someone was touching Teddy's shoulder, whispering his name… Rose, it was Rose, but he could not face her, could not face any of them knowing this was all his fault; he could only stand and stare and watch Penny's unresponsive face as all the magic at their command was hurled into the fray to save her. He could not move, could barely breathe, they had to help her, they had to save her…

A breath. She'd taken a breath.

She was _breathing_!

The euphoria lasted barely a second. Petroc was shaking his head; it was only because he'd forced it, she wasn't breathing on her own…

And suddenly, there was Percy. Ignoring the broken glass beneath him, he plunged to his knees at his wife's side, pale and shaking behind his horn-rimmed glasses and stuffy robes. Teddy was used to Percy the confident, Percy the efficient, Percy the bossy, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic, liked and respected if laughed at affectionately in private. He'd never seen this Percy, frightened, at a loss, almost frail as he stared at his unmoving wife…

_And it's my fault_.

The stretcher arrived. Penny was lifted with all care on board and, with her husband clasping her hand and Petroc hovering at her side, she was rushed out towards the Floo and St Mungo's. The battered Bert quickly followed, propped up by an obliging Dennis.

Edgar was still shaking as he stared at the detritus left in the wake of Penny's departure. And then with a sharp exclamation, he turned to Rose, Lucy and Teddy and ordered them all home. Until further notice, he said, the Historical Records Section was closed. Rajesh, and Dennis when he returned, would help him to investigate the disaster. The rest of them were to go. He'd call them if he needed them.

And that was what Teddy did, walking with Rose and Lucy up to the Floo, ignoring their questions until they stood in the Atrium and bid each other an uncertain goodbye.

Into the green flames he went. Going home just as he'd wanted. But not how he'd wanted. Not like this.

And as he travelled through the fire, all he could hear was the pounding of his blood in his veins and a guilty voice at the back of his head, reciting over and over again: _it's your fault, it's your fault, it's your fault._

_If she dies, it's your fault._

And then the sooty emerald of the Floo cleared and he found himself home, facing his anxious father, the man for whom he had risked so much and possibly sacrificed another life for in turn, and all he could do was blurt out the truth.

"Dad," he whispered, his voice trembling almost as much as his body. "I think I might have just got Penny Weasley _killed_."


	11. Consequences

**A/N: **This time of year is fairly knackering for me so forgive me for the slower rate of posting at present. Thanks as ever to the Usual Suspects, to Snockackcatcher and to everyone who has kindly reviewed. :)

_**10: Consequences**_

"Molly says she's stable."

As his wife pulled her head out of the emerald-lit fireplace, Remus had the disconcerting experience of seeing his son's face staring at him from two directions. Tonks came to her feet, shaking her head as the morph fell away, revealing her own familiar heart-shaped face and dark eyes. She moved quickly across the room to settle back down next to Teddy on the sofa, a position she'd only vacated only in order to satisfy her son's desperate need to find out how Penny was. Still looking thoroughly miserable, Teddy leaned into her shoulder in an almost child-like manner as she wrapped an arm around him once more and pulled him back into a hug.

In spite of everything, Remus couldn't help but smile slightly as he looked up from the fourth cup of tea he'd been pouring to calm Teddy's nerves. Discomfort or not, hormones or not, there was no doubt that seeing Teddy upset had done more than a thousand spoken words or silent personal resolutions in helping Dora to bond with their son.

Placing the tea down on the small table by the sofa, Remus met his wife's eyes over Teddy's shoulder.

"What else did she say?"

Tonks twisted her lips grimly as her hands tightened around her son. "Just that, mostly. She was completely swamped with distressed redheaded grandchildren and couldn't exactly spare long to chat, which was probably a good thing considering it meant she didn't try to question me-as-Teddy about anything that might have blown my cover. She said that Penny's stabilised and she's breathing on her own again but the shock's put her in a kind of coma and the Healers haven't a clue when she's likely to come round. It could be hours or…" Her eyes flickered down to the brown head cradled in her arms. "Or it could be weeks. Even _months_."

Remus closed his eyes for a moment. He remembered Penelope Clearwater – Weasley, as she was now – as a dark haired, serious Ravenclaw Prefect, always thinking her way around the problems he posed in class, looking and analysing, never happier than when she was working something through. He remembered her smiling and holding hands with Percy in the corridors and the two of them huddling together in the library as they contentedly studied together…

It was strange to think that that young woman he remembered from his N.E.W.T classes, the face he pictured as he saw her lying injured in St Mungo's in his mind's eye, was now a wife and mother in her early _forties_, older in years lived at least than _he _was…

"I'm surprised Molly was at the Burrow," he said quietly, more to shift his thoughts away from focussing once more on the bizarreness of their situation than anything else. "I'd have thought she'd be at St Mungo's with Percy."

Dora sighed, ruffling Teddy's limp brown hair with her breath. "Oh, she wanted to be, believe me; poor Molly, she was all over the place. But she couldn't go; it's the school holidays and I could tell she was already minding half the grandkids before this even happened. But Arthur went with them from the Ministry and he'd just updated her when I – well, _Teddy _– called."

Slowly, shakily, Teddy lifted his head from his mother's shoulders. "I'm sorry you had to call for me. But… but I just couldn't ask. I don't know what I'd have done knowing I'd just all but killed her daughter-in-law and then having to speak to her like everything was normal…"

Tonks smiled wryly, her hands still resting gently on Teddy's shoulders as he pulled himself upright once more. "No trouble. After all, it's not like I've never disguised myself as my grown-up son to talk to an old friend who looks twenty years older than when I last saw her yesterday about the health of a daughter-in-law she hadn't even got when we last spoke before." She shrugged with a quirk of her eyebrow. "It's just a day in the life for me."

But Teddy, it seemed, was not seeing the funny side of her remarks. "I didn't _think _– I'm so sorry, it must have been so uncomfortable for you seeing Molly like that…I should never…"

"Oh for the love of…" The roll of Dora's eyes was very familiar to Remus. "Teddy Lupin, you are _so_ like your father it's frightening. Now I've been telling Remus this ever since I met him…"

"She has," Remus intervened with a faux-weary nod, knowing well where the lecture was heading. "Brace yourself."

"… and quite clearly you need me here just so I can tell you too." Tonks regarded her son sternly. "So listen up and _remember_ this. _Relax_. A joking remark does not an accusation make. If someone does something for you, it means they don't mind doing it, so don't go telling yourself different because it's a disservice to you both. A tiny mishap is no reason to indulge in a litany of self-blame. Even big mishaps aren't going to be solved by wallowing around and blaming yourself for everything until the people around you either bugger off or beat you with sticks until you stop. In other words, young man - the entirety of the world's ills are _not your fault._ So don't keep making out they _are_ because all it does is annoy the rest of us and make you feel insecure for no good reason. Okay?"

Teddy, in a feeling that Remus could more than relate to, did not look entirely convinced. "But this _is_ my fault…"

"I'd watch it," he intervened, cutting across whatever remark his wife had been about to inflict. "She means it about those sticks."

To his surprise, Teddy's lips gave a wan quirk. "Well, I remember her slapping you quite firmly. So I guess I'd better watch my step."

It took a few moments for the impact of Teddy's words to sink in. "Wait. What slap?"

Remus felt a surge of guilt as the hint of a smile was swamped without trace in an instant. "Well, when you came back to mum… When she was expecting me?" His fingers began to twist awkwardly at the hems of his robes. "I did tell you I'd used the Portal to watch you in the past…"

He had told them. But this revelation had come so soon after the chaos of their arrival in the future that it had barely registered with Remus, and he certainly hadn't thought it through. He hadn't even considered how he felt about the idea that those intimate, private moments he'd shared with Dora, such as their first kiss, the arguments they had when he left to infiltrate the werewolves, the talk they had had after Dumbledore's death, and of course, their tense and highly-charged reunion following his ill-thought out departure after Bill and Fleur's wedding, were no longer theirs and theirs alone…

One glance at Dora's face showed the same flickers of uncertain emotion. And Teddy, it seemed, had not missed the looks on his parents' faces either.

"Merlin, I didn't think… Who'd want to be spied on by their son? I'm so sorry, I've made such a mess of everything…"

"Don't start that again." Tonks tried for a light-hearted tone, but her expression had lost its playful edge, leaving only the seriousness of her previous words behind. "Dear Gods, you need to lighten up. I'm starting to think we got here just in time."

Teddy was staring at them both now, eyes flicking from Remus to his mother and back, face set and eyes grimly sorrowful. Gently, he shrugged his shoulders out of Dora's grasp. "But should you have?" he whispered softly. "I'm going to ask and I want you to tell me honestly – no jokes, no trying to spare my feelings, nothing but the truth." He closed his eyes for a moment, breathing hard and when he opened them again, his face turned almost unconsciously up towards Remus, rich with a plea for an answer he clearly wasn't sure he wanted. "When I rescued you and mum from the past, do you think I did the right thing?"

_Oh Merlin_.

This was going to be painful. But they needed to have this conversation, needed to sort through these truths, and the look on Teddy's face was enough to tell Remus that he truly wanted honesty, he truly wanted, not vindication or flagellation, but to know his father's opinion on what he had risked so much to do. And in being honest with himself, with the doubts that had nagged at the back of his mind for the last twelve hours or so, Remus knew there was only one answer he could give.

"No," he said.

Teddy closed his eyes, head dropping down against his chest. Tonks' eyes were on her husband, but there was no accusation or approval in her gaze, only a quiet understanding that these words needed to be said.

"From my own perspective, it's hard to admit that." Remus quietly leant himself against the back of a nearby chair, in deference to the ache of his tender bones, staring at his wife and son almost blankly as he shuffled his thoughts into order, and tried not to think about how painful they were likely to be for his son to hear. "Obviously, not being dead has far more appeal than the alternative, and Dora not being dead is even better. But from an impartial view, you broke the law and damaged a rare and valuable magical artefact in such a way that an innocent woman was unintentionally injured; all in the name of rescuing two people you barely knew and, if you're honest, don't _really_ need anymore, at least not to look after you. And even from a partial viewpoint…" He smiled sadly. "You're my son and I love you and it's wonderful to have this chance to meet you and know you that I would otherwise have lost. But when I look at what you've risked to do it; your career, your family, your _freedom_… You've been forced to lie repeatedly to the people who loved you and raised you in our absence just in order to protect us, and it pains me to watch you do something I can tell that you loathe doing just for us. I can't help but feel that you should owe them more for twenty years than you owe us for two short months. I'm sorry, Teddy. But that's how I feel."

Teddy had neither spoken nor moved during Remus' gentle assault on his sensibilities, staring down at his lap with hollow eyes. Though his lips moved, he did not raise his head.

"Mum?" he said softly.

Tonks was staring at her son now, her expression weary and resigned. "I wouldn't have put it so bluntly, but yes," she stated softly. "I'm sorry too, but I agree with your dad. We went into that battle knowing we might lose our lives. But we did it for you, so that you might have a safe, happy, _free_ future and the thought of you throwing that away just to save us…" Her chin quivered slightly as she too bowed her head, eyes glistening with held-back tears. "It hurts, Teddy. It hurts to think that by choosing to leave you behind to fight in order to _protect_ your future, I may have destroyed your future anyway."

Teddy's eyes slowly closed. "I see," he said, both words drawn out and breathless. "Well. That's pretty much what Harry said you'd think. And I guess I've known all along that he was right." He took a deep, gasping breath. "It was just nice to pretend for a while…"

Dora's hands shot out, catching Teddy's cheeks and forcing his head up to face her. His eyes flew open in apparent surprise.

"Now you listen to me," she said, her voice low but resoundingly powerful as her dark eyes burrowed into her son's. "I meant what I said earlier, Teddy, and I will not let you sit there and tell yourself that just because we don't approve of what you've done, that we hate this and we can't really love you because of it or some other such rubbish, because I _know _that's what you're sitting there doing, isn't it? _So_ like your father…" She allowed herself a moment to roll her eyes. "We love you. And I'm not saying it to make you feel better or because I feel I have to, I _mean_ it." She took a deep breath. "I'm sitting here stuck in a body that won't stop mourning a baby I haven't even lost – and if you start blaming yourself for that, twenty or not, I _will _put you over my knee and spank you," she added sternly as Teddy's eyes widened with horror at this fresh revelation. "But if you think I'm going to let myself chuck away my chance at a relationship with the son I still have because of it, think again. And if you think I'm going to let you chuck away a true relationship with us by losing yourself in guilt and angst over this, then you really didn't learn a damned thing from watching me slap the daylights out of your father. What's done is done, Teddy. What matters now is what we do next." Withdrawing her hands abruptly, Tonks came to her feet, resting her fingers against her hips as she swivelled her gaze sternly from one Lupin man to the other. "So here's what we're going to do. We're going to sit down, all three of us and we're going to work out where to go from here. There will be no exclamations of guilt or self-blame, no regrets and no dwelling on past mistakes. And if I hear anything along those lines pass through either of your lips, I'm getting the whacking sticks. Understood?"

Remus stared at her, standing there in the middle of the room with her hands on her hips, dark eyes intense, features rife with steely determination, so vibrant in spite of the natural brown she had currently left her hair, and in spite of the history books, so completely _alive_… She was emphatic in the cause of what she knew was right, so unrelenting and beautifully stubborn, her own pain nothing in the face of helping others, in helping _him_ out of the miserable rut he'd allowed his life to tumble into, trapped so strongly by his own fears of hurting others that he hadn't even realised the greater pain for her was seeing him fall away from himself in turn. She had always been so since the day he had met her, and he had seen her this way so many times as she had battered down his defences and fought her way into his heart.

And now she was his heart. She was his wife. And he couldn't imagine a world without her.

_Sweet Merlin, I love that woman_.

The feeling almost overtook him. And he knew then that whatever this uncertain new future held, she was going to live it. He was resolved. Whatever might become of him, whatever repercussions they might eventually face, he would not – could not – have it any other way.

_He was wrong to save me, perhaps. But how can I begrudge him giving her another chance to live?_

His gaze slipped to Teddy. The young man was staring at his mother with a kind of bewildered awe that Remus knew very well indeed. He only hoped that his son would come to the sensible conclusion rather quicker than the year it had taken his father.

Paternal trust was rewarded. Uncertainly but with a hint of carefully summoned resolve, Teddy managed a wan smile.

"Understood," he replied. "No more wallowing from me." The smile quirked in one corner. "I wouldn't _dare_."

Remus felt himself smiling in turn. "Smart decision. And Dora…" As his wife's eyes turned in his direction, he flooded his gaze with all the love that surged down through his veins. "Thank you. I think we needed that."

Her returning smile was gentle, her eyes silently echoing the unspoken sentiment as she dropped back down to the settee, and placed one hand softly back against Teddy's shoulder as she wriggled closer to her son. Remus shifted upright as he stepped around the chair he had been leaning on and sat himself down on it, resting his elbows on his knees as he leaned forwards towards his family. "So, the question on the table is – where do we go from here?" His eyes drifted to Teddy, who was now smiling with quiet happiness as his mother leaned against his shoulder. "Now, I hope you don't mind me saying this, son. Because while I have the utmost respect for your strategy, planning and execution in our rescue, I can't quite escape the feeling that you didn't give the slightest thought to what to do with us once we were here." Carefully, he suppressed a brewing grin at his son's gesture of rueful acceptance. "I knew it. You've got brilliant short-term plans of action, but give no real thought as to the consequences. But don't be downhearted about it. It happens to be a trademark of your mother's."

Dora fixed him with an icy stare as Teddy actually chuckled. "Oi!"

There was no holding back the grin now. "Dora, I love you dearly but you know it's true."

"You're still a git for mentioning it."

"This from the woman who just ranted at our son about the perils of being too much like his emotionally insecure father?"

"Which was true as well!" Tonks grimaced abruptly. "Damn! I said _as well_ which means you're going to pounce like a tiger and tell me I just agreed with you. Fine, I concede the verbal battle. But just remember who's got the whacking sticks at her command."

Remus laughed quietly at the mock frown on his wife's face, secretly more pleased about the slowly dawning happiness of his son. For the time being at least, wallowing was off the agenda. "How could I forget? Anyway, back to the point." He sighed, painfully aware that he was turning the conversation back to more serious matters just when his son was starting to relax. "Teddy, I don't think you really thought about what would happen once word of our… well, rescue I suppose, got out. I suspect it only really dawned on you when you had to lie to Harry and then Victoire."

Solemnly and with a sigh Teddy nodded. "I suddenly realised just what _would _happen if word got out and they knew about it. I didn't want anyone else to get in trouble because of me. It wasn't until after I realised…"

"That it would mean we wouldn't be able to go out in public." It was Tonks who finished the sentence, her voice low. "At least not without risking you going to prison." She squeezed his hand slightly. "And I think you know that's not an option."

"So where does that leave us?" The list of possibilities that ran through Remus' head were uncomfortable to say the least. "Option One: We stay in seclusion and never leave this house again. Not really realistic, I suspect," he added at Tonks' deliberately pointed look. "Unless, of course, you want your mother to go stir crazy. Option Two; we live our lives in disguise and avoid everyone who might recognise us. Tonks morphs herself permanently into someone else and I use Polyjuice Potion or transfiguration to hide my true identity for the rest of my life. It would mean that no one could ever know who we truly were – we would most likely be peripheral at best in important events in your life such as birthdays, your marriage, seeing any children you might have, out of necessity. I can't say that really appeals very much but we might not have much choice. Option Three: We move abroad, go to somewhere that nobody knows us and start a new life with new identities." He pulled a face. "Unfortunately not as simple as it sounds. Unless the rules on werewolf emigration have changed drastically, my lycanthropy will have to be declared and explained to any new wizarding society we join and enquires will be made about me to the British registry, which wouldn't work with my real name or a fake one. Even re-registering under a new name isn't an option, since it'll be blatantly obvious to even an idiot that my bite isn't new and of course you can't use any charms or transfiguration to change the appearance of or fake a cursed scar, for the worse or for the better. We could go into the Muggle world but as two intrinsically magical people, I'd rather not do that unless we have to. Not to mention of course that going abroad will mean we will see very little of you, Teddy, and nothing of the friends and family we've left behind."

"I could come with you," Teddy offered suddenly, his expression painfully sincere. "We could all move abroad together."

Remus regarded his son with pointed kindness. Leading with the heart and not thinking things through. _So_ like his mother…

"And leave your grandmother?" he rebuked gently. "Leave Harry and the Weasleys? Leave your job and your friends behind? They'd want explanations and you'd barely see them again, if ever. And what about Victoire? What will you do? Tell her the truth and ask her to come? Ask her to choose between her love for you and for her family?" At Teddy's chastened expression, Remus felt a stab of guilt. " We won't – we can't ask you to choose between us and them, Teddy. I suspect Option Three isn't the way."

"And I don't like Option Two much either." Tonks was staring at the mantelpiece, her eyes fixed upon a picture of what looked like Teddy's last time off the Hogwarts Express at Kings Cross – their son, his hair the vivid turquoise that seemed to be a favourite, had one arm wrapped around the waist of a pretty blonde Remus could only assume was Victoire and the other embracing the shoulders of the greying but still elegant form of a smiling Andromeda Tonks. "I don't like any option that means I don't get to see my son's life. And all those options can go and jump off the north battlements if I can never tell the truth to my mum."

"Which leaves Option Four." Remus sat up straight in his chair, his eyes fixed upon his son. "We tell the truth and face the consequences."

"_No_!" Teddy was on his feet with such abruptness that Tonks went sprawling on the sofa. "No, they won't understand! They'll probably try to reverse it all or send you back to die or something stupid! And if people find out I pulled you from the past, they'll be on at me to save their loved ones too! That's if they haven't locked me in Azkaban and thrown away the key, and what'll happen to you if they do that?"

"Teddy, calm down." Remus rose too, staring at his breathless and wide-eyed son with a serious expression. "That's occurred to me too. But I'm not talking about taking out an ad in the Daily Prophet here. I'm talking about trusting the people who love you. Believe me, I understand that you're trying to protect them." His eyes slipped to Dora, who had righted herself on the settee and was watching him with a suddenly intense gaze. "But if there's one thing life has taught me, it's that the people we protect don't always want protecting. I think they have the right to decide what to do for themselves."

"Hallelujah."

Remus deliberately ignored his wife's quiet but fervent exclamation and ploughed on regardless. "And since we badly need an Option Five that the Head of the Aurors might just be able to provide…" He smiled slightly. "I think it's time to talk to Harry."

Frown lines immediately creased Teddy's forehead. "Harry?"

Tonks was nodding her head. "Seems like the best option to me. Though like I said, I want my mum to know as soon as possible too."

"I don't see why not." Remus agreed with a shrug. "But since it's probably better that Teddy do the telling rather than having two apparently dead people turn up on the relevant doorsteps to give the residents a heart attack, it'll have to be one at a time. And Harry first, I think."

Teddy still looked uncomfortable. "But I lied to him. I swore him an oath and he'll know I didn't mean it."

"He'll understand why."

"He could lose his job because of me if word got out."

Remus regarded his son seriously. "I think he'd be more upset that you didn't confide in him if he found out after the event, don't you?"

Teddy gazed absently up at the ceiling as though it alone held the answer to his dilemma. "Well, yes, I suppose, but…"

But the young man got no further. For at that moment, with a burst of light, the fireplace sprung into emerald-flamed life.

"_Hide_!"

Remus didn't need his son's frantic exclamation to get the message. Talking of telling a trusted friend was one thing, but allowing their discovery by random persons unknown was quite another.

There was no time to reach the door. Diving ungracefully behind his chair, Remus cast a hurried Disillusionment Charm over his body and stared about frantically for Dora.

Alarmingly, he found her.

"Mum!"

There was a wail of frantic irritation, a too familiar thud – from his concealment, Remus could only watch with horror as his wife tumbled to the ground with her feet wrapped in the hearth rug, her legs and back in full view of the fireplace and the figure spinning within it, coming closer, closer, closer…

Here.

And Dora was still half in the open.

They were out of time.


	12. Family Circus

**A/N: **This chapter gave me more than a little grief - it refused to come together mostly because I couldn't seem to find a point of view for it that worked until I stumbled upon the oblivious viewpoint that is used for most of the chapter instead. I've named a few Weasley children here - I hadn't intended to because I know that JKR has named them herself and will probably reveal all eventually, but I've just picked names that seem to work and am hoping for the best. Thanks as per usual to my Merry Band and to **Snorkackcatcher** and also to **Fernwithy** for giving me permission to borrow the idea of Andromeda as a genealogist from her excellant fic "Teddy Lupin and the Forest Guard".

**_11: Family Circus_**

Victoire Weasley was feeling terrible.

Poor Aunt Penny. Poor Uncle Percy. And their children too – little Elizabeth hadn't stopped bawling her eyes out into Granny Molly's chest ever since Victoire had arrived at The Burrow with her parents and sisters to help deal with the horde of distressed grandchildren and wait together for news. Monty – who still insisted on being addressed by the more dignified _Montgomery _in spite of the family crisis - had maintained a stiff upper lip worthy of his father as he coaxed his distressed younger brother Bertie down off various pieces of furniture. But his eyes had told a very different story, and when Papa had quietly taken the teenager outside for a "man to man" talk, she had seen her cousin's jaw-line quivering with suppressed emotion.

The Burrow was chaos, of course. As word of Aunt Penny's accident spread, the family had converged from all directions. Uncle Ron arrived next after Victoire's family, his freckled face filled with concern as he greeted his children and told Granny Molly that he'd sent an express owl to Uncle George and his family, who were staying with Uncle Charlie in Romania, to let them know what was going on. A response to his missive came two hours later in the form of Uncle George, who appeared out of the Floo looking harried from the three international connections it had taken to get him back into the country. He brought Uncle Charlie's apologies too – apparently he was caught up in the hatching of a clutch of rare Romanian Longhorn eggs and couldn't get away. And finally, Auntie Ginny landed her broomstick in the back yard with her usual panache a few minutes afterwards, Lily riding pillion and James and Albus flying solo behind her. She apologised for her slowness but had only just heard the news, having been busy seeing Uncle Harry off at the International Portkey Terminal – he'd been called away urgently to deal with a complication regarding Fudge's extradition and would be in Brazil until Thursday.

"And that reminds me." Auntie Ginny deposited Lily on the sofa next to Hugo and Granny Molly -who was still cradling the sobbing Elizabeth - and turned to Victoire, brushing her vivid red hair out of her eyes. "Victoire, when are you next seeing Teddy?"

Victoire felt a peculiar stab, which she quickly fought down. _Teddy_. The guilt she had felt when Teddy had come to see her the previous night had been overwhelming, a mixture of regret at ever believing he could be so foolish, and the fact she had gone running to Uncle Harry about it and made him look like an idiot in front of his godfather…

Oh, he'd told her over and over again that she had nothing to blame herself for, that she'd done the right thing, that he was the one who should be sorry; but there had been something awkward, even uncomfortable in his manner, and he had respectfully, if somewhat inexplicably, rejected her offer to let him stay the night. She fought down the uncomfortable feeling that he had wanted to get away from her as quickly as possible.

_Oh please, let him forgive me for this. Please don't let this ruin what we have_…

"I'm not really sure." She was quite pleased with the evenness of her tone as she replied. "We haven't made any plans. Why?"

Auntie Ginny deftly deflected James away from her limited edition Firebolt Thunderclap, and silenced his request to borrow it to show its instant braking charm to Victoire's Quidditch-mad sister Isabelle with a single steely look. "It's just that Harry and I were hoping to invite him – and you, if you want to come – over to dinner this Friday," she said, continuing in the same friendly tone as though nothing had happened. Victoire had to admit that while her mother was the Queen of Poise, she'd always admired Auntie Ginny's almost stylish cool-headedness, especially in the face of her most rambunctious son. "That is, assuming Harry's visit to Rio doesn't overrun too much. And I just thought that since you're more likely to see him before I do, you might have more of a chance to ask him than I will."

"You're seeing Teddy?" Granny Molly, looking both distressed and somewhat harried as she cradled the tearful ball of brown hair that was her granddaughter, glanced up sharply from her position on the sofa. Taking Victoire's awkward attempt to demur as an affirmative, she ploughed unstoppably on. "He Flooed here earlier to see if we had any news – he was there when it happened, poor thing, and he didn't seem himself at all, though I didn't really have much chance to question him, what with poor Elizabeth crying into my skirt and Rosie and Monty trying to coax Bertie down off the top of the dresser…" She sighed deeply, ignoring the rather shaky cry of "It's _Montgomery_!" from the kitchen doorway that suggested Papa and Monty had returned from their walk. "And he'll be in that cottage all on his own without even Andromeda to go to, because I'm sure she's not back from that genealogy conference in Vienna until the end of the week." The light that clicked on in her eyes was more than a little alarming. "Victoire, dear, why don't you Floo over and fetch him? Go to his house and bring him over to The Burrow. He shouldn't be alone on a day like this and after all, he's as good as a part of the family…"

And that was that. Victoire knew that she didn't really have any good reason to refuse and besides, Granny Molly was right, Teddy shouldn't be rattling around alone in that old house, when he could be here with the people who loved him. How could she say no?

_Even if he probably won't want to see you…_

And so she had headed into the kitchen, nodding to Papa and Uncle Ron, who were sitting at the kitchen table offering quiet reassurances to Monty, grabbed a handful of Floo powder off the mantle, and headed into the emerald flames.

She had expected to find him alone. What she had not expected to find was her boyfriend standing in his lounge, staring with an expression of mute horror at a woman's backside and jean-clad legs going sprawling on the floor.

A fairly _decent _pair of legs at that.

Victoire felt a sudden flare of rage. Who was this woman to be flailing around on the floor of _her boyfriend's_ front room while she was moping around feeling guilty that she might have upset him? What did she think she was doing? What did _he _think he was doing?

And the expression of horrified guilt written over Teddy's features did not do anything to quell her fury.

"Victoire!" he exclaimed, not quite managing to conceal an alarm-bell-ringing hint of concern. "What are you doing here?"

Icily, Victoire fixed a drilling gaze onto Teddy's face.

"I came to see if you were all right," she drawled dangerously. "Granny Molly wanted me to bring you over to The Burrow because we didn't want you to be all alone. But as I can see, you're _not_…" With a flick of her hand, she gestured imperiously at the lurking backside. "So, Teddy, who, _exactly_, is _that_?"

"Now then, my dear." The voice that drifted up from behind the edge of the sofa was more than a little irritated itself. "I accept this isn't my most conventional angle, but I don't think there's any reason to take _that _kind of tone with my _grandson_."

_Grandson? No, it couldn't be_…

But indeed it was Andromeda Tonks who pulled herself up from her position on the carpet, her hair somewhat longer and – oddly – a little less grey than it had been when Victoire had last seen her, her outfit not her usual well-tailored, tidy clothes, but a pair of scruffy jeans and a loose red t-shirt bearing the legend of a band she vaguely remembered glimpsing in her father's record collection, all under a set of forest-green leaf-patterned robes that had apparently seen better days. Her expression, usually gracious and friendly on greeting her grandson's girlfriend, was distinctly frosty round the edges.

Victoire stared. She couldn't help herself. And even as she watched, the temperature of the expression on Mrs Tonks' face dropped another few degrees.

Oh dear.

"Mrs Tonks!" she managed, glancing at Teddy for assistance and getting a most unhelpful shrug and a look of apology in return. "I'm sorry, I didn't recognise you… that is…I mean…" She forced herself to focus, to gather her mind – _daughter of the Queen of Poise, remember?_ The dazzling smile that usually served well enough to diffuse any situation blossomed rapidly across her face. "Mrs Tonks, I'm ever so sorry but you surprised me by being here. Granny Molly told me you were in Vienna until the end of the week. And besides…" She fought to hide a rising grimace. "If you don't mind me saying, I've never seen you in _jeans_ before."

Mrs Tonks' expressed flickered slightly as she adjusted her scruffy robes and flicked her hair back over her shoulder, stepping with inexplicable determination in front of the high backed armchair in the corner of the room. "I _was_ in Vienna, until Teddy here owled me to tell me what had happened to poor Penelope and of course I came straight away." She sniffed. "Although I wasn't expecting to be bowled over by someone coming through immediately on my heels." _Merde. That explains the irritation_… "And as it happens, these are my travelling clothes." Her lips pursed pointedly. "I was hardly going to risk good robes in an international Floo connection – the maintenance standards on some parts of the Continent are terrible. I lost an expensive angora travelling cloak to a persistent cluster of soot near Strasbourg once, and I never make the same mistake twice."

There was something oddly fixed about Teddy's smile as he positioned himself firmly between the two most important women in his life. "Don't mind Gran," he told her awkwardly, shooting an oddly pointed look over his shoulder as he did so. "She's still a bit Floo-lagged. And sorry I sounded so surprised when you arrived, but it isn't often your grandmother and your girlfriend are involved in a Floo pile-up in your living room!" His smile bloomed more sincerely. "Come here. I think we need a proper hello."

For one brief instant, out of the corner of her eye, Victoire could have sworn that she saw Mrs Tonks actually _bristling_ as her grandson dipped his head, but then the pleasing distraction of Teddy's lips against hers wiped the thought out of her mind. She could feel his fingers stroking gently against her elbow as his mouth brushed tenderly over hers and _surely_ he couldn't still be angry with her if he was kissing her like this…

"Ow! Bloody…"

A flush of disappointment swamped Victoire as Teddy jerked sharply away to glance over his shoulder in the direction of his grandmother.

"Are you all right, Gran?" he called, and Victoire was shamefully pleased to note the irritation in his tone.

For some inexplicable reason, Mrs Tonks was rubbing her thigh as she glared venomously at the innocent armchair, her wand half-drawn and grasped in her free hand. "Sorry," she muttered with uncharacteristic informality. "I thought I saw an… Ashwinder or…something."

Teddy's expression twisted into a badly suppressed grimace. "Look Gran, I know how tiring long Floo journeys are for you. Why don't you go upstairs and get some rest?"

_Medication _sounded more to the point as far as Victoire was concerned. Uncle George had come through a longer Floo ride from Lupeni in Romania and remained his normal self. And she was sure Uncle Harry would be fine once he came back from Brazil, and that was a _sixteen_ fire-connection trip. How had Mrs Tonks ended up so _scrambled_ on a two fire ride?

"I'm fine, thank you." Mrs Tonks retorted stiffly. Her rather alarming smile fixed abruptly on Victoire. "It was very nice of you to come and check on him, dear, but as you can see, he's not alone so you're not really needed here. Run along."

"I tell you what." Victoire blessed the heavens for Teddy's rather brittle intervention. "Why don't you give me a few minutes to get Gran settled, and then I'll come to The Burrow for lunch? I'm sure it must be all hands on deck at the moment."

Victoire sighed deeply. "It's chaos," she admitted. "Little Lizzie won't let go of Granny Molly for love nor money, and Bertie's literally climbing the walls, the furniture and anything else that gets in his way. And Monty's being all brave and noble but…"

"But you can tell he just wants to break down." It was Teddy's turn to sigh, his eyes closing as a wave of emotion rippled across his face too quickly for Victoire to read. His expression was pained but resolute. "Well, I suppose I've got to face them sometime…" he muttered, almost to himself. "Is everyone there?"

"Aunt Hermione is attending the Wizengamot and Uncle Charlie and George's bunch are still in Romania." Victoire told him, resting one hand gently against his arm as she tried to silently will away the look of distress upon his face with her touch alone. "And Uncle Harry's in Brazil. But everyone else is…"

"Brazil?" Teddy's head flew up at Andromeda's sudden interruption. "What's Harry doing there? And when's he coming back?"

Teddy was biting his lip, his eyes distant as Victoire leaned round him uncomfortably to answer the older woman's question. "Auntie Ginny says there's been some complication in Fudge's extradition and he's gone to sort it out, but he should be back by Thursday. Oh!" She turned quickly back to Teddy to avoid Mrs Tonks' still unsettling gaze as she remembered the invitation she'd been asked to convey. "And we've both been invited to dinner with them at Grimmauld Place on Friday if you're free."

"I should be." Teddy's eyes were still worryingly far away. "But I'll have to see what happens." His gaze snapped abruptly back to Victoire's face. "Look, Vic, like I said, you head on back to The Burrow and I'll join you for a bit when I've seen to Gran." Lowering his voice, he bent his head closer as he pulled her into a soft embrace, his lips brushing her ear in an unintentionally tantalising fashion.

"I'm really sorry about Gran," he whispered almost inaudibly. "She's in such a strange mood, I don't know _what _that Floo ride's done to her. But I'll get her to bed – I'll _sedate _her if I have to – and then I'll be round to help. I was…" She heard him swallow as his voice rose slightly in volume. "I was there when it happened and I just _froze_. I should have done more to help. Maybe by helping with her kids, I can make it up to everyone…"

Her arms tightened around his back. "Don't be silly, Teddy," she said gently, resting her head against his as she closed her eyes. "It was an accident. Nobody's going to blame you." She smiled against his cheek. "I love you dearly, but you do have a terrible guilt complex, you know. You'd probably blame yourself for the fall of Rome and the existence of evil if you could find a way."

Teddy's arms tightened. Victoire increased her embrace in response and as she opened her eyes, she found Mrs Tonks was staring at her. But the stiffness and the barely hidden hostility present only moments earlier had washed away from her face, leaving contrition and a quiet smile of acknowledgement and gratitude instead.

Victoire smiled back. Now that was more like Mrs Tonks…

Gently, she released her boyfriend. "See you in a little while," she told him, lifting a handful of Floo powder out of the jar on the mantel and turning to the fireplace. "And I love you."

As the flames roared emerald, she heard his soft reply.

"I love you too, Vic. Very much indeed."

Smiling happily, Victoire stepped forward into the green maelstrom of flame and back to the family circus of The Burrow.

In times of crisis, it was good to have people you loved.

"Remus Lupin, I have got a bruise the size of a melon coming up on my thigh! Why the hell did you kick me so hard?"

With a sigh, Teddy turned away from the fire into which Victoire had disappeared moments before, to find his mother half-morphed back into herself as she glared at his now un-Disillusioned father crawling out from behind the armchair in the corner. His dad was glaring back with some force and Teddy had to admit he couldn't blame him.

_Not exactly the ideal girlfriend meets mother scenario. Why couldn't mum just have been _nice_? What is the _problem_? Gods, if they don't get on, I can't make that kind of choice…_

"Well, what did you think you were doing?" his dad retorted sharply, echoing the thought running through his son's head quite emphatically. "You were outright _rude_ and you know Andromeda wouldn't have behaved like that! What's Victoire going to think of you when she learns the truth? And don't give me that look, you _know_ it's true. And don't think I didn't see the look on your face when Teddy kissed her! Andromeda's features or not, I know that expression. That was the kind of look that leads to the surreptitious casting of itching hexes …"

"Well, honestly!" Fiddling uncomfortably with her loose robes, his mother threw herself down on the settee with a glare directed at the world in general. With a sudden burst of realisation, it struck Teddy just how _young _she was, barely a few years older than _he_ was. How would he cope if he woke up tomorrow morning to find _his _grown-up son snogging his girlfriend in front of him? "Those looks she was giving me just made me… _annoyed_. And I'm sorry, but then all I could think was that she was ploughing her _stuck up French lips_ all over _my little baby_…"

His father was back on his feet now, his brow creased and a steely frown on his face.

"That's it," he declared. "Get me those books from upstairs. Our first priority is to find you something to help sort out those _hormones_ of yours."

His mum sat up sharply. "My hormones are fine, thank you!"

"Oh really?" His dad raised a cynical eyebrow. "Dora, tell me honestly - if I hadn't kicked you, would you have hexed that poor girl? Because that's what it looked like you were planning to me. You can't go on like this or someone, probably poor _Victoire,_ is going to get _hurt_…"

"All right, all right!" His mother threw up her hands. "I'm sorry. I just saw her and I saw red, I don't know why. I don't know, maybe it _was_ the hormone thing…" She sighed. "And anyway, I think I might have… _misjudged_ her slightly." She smiled wanly at Teddy. "She was talking some sense there at the end, after all. And I shouldn't have been so abrupt…" With a sudden, furious gesture, she pounded her hand against a cushion. "Merlin, I hate this! I'm all over the bloody place!"

Gently, his father dropped into the seat beside her, wrapping one arm carefully around her shoulders. "It's okay," he said softly. "Have you found anything in those books that might help?"

His mum sighed. "One or two things. I wish I could talk to mum though." Her eyes lifted towards Teddy, filled with silent apology for what had happened earlier. "Is she really in Vienna?"

Teddy nodded. "At a genealogy conference. If all went to plan, she caught an early Portkey to Austria first thing this morning. She doesn't usually go to the foreign conferences these days, but she heard Rudolph Spragg was planning to make another presentation about how only research into the magical half of a wizard's bloodline really matters, and she does love to go and slap him down in front of their peers."

A fond smile flickered along the edges of his mother's face. "That sounds about right," she said quietly, an oddly shaky note trembling in her voice. "I _really _want to see her, Remus. I want my _mum_."

His dad tightened his grasp. "I know."

His mother gave a watery chuckle. "And ironically, it's the pure-blood side of the family I'll have to ask her about. When she was showing me how to feed… well, you Teddy…" Teddy fought down a potent blush as he caught her meaning. "She told me that apparently she was the first Black woman to feed her child herself for generations. Her mum and Sirius' mum Walburga and all the others used some potion to stop the milk early on." She pulled a face. "Apparently the Blacks were too _dignified _to feed their own babies. Which makes it all the more ironic that I'm going to have to ask my mum if she's got the recipe." She sighed again, deeply. "But in the meantime, there's other things I can try…"

Teddy shuffled his feet, trying to hide his discomfort at the direction the conversation had taken, but his dad's keen eye had picked his mood out in an instant.

"Did you want to get going?" he asked kindly, his eyes far too understanding for Teddy's liking. "To The Burrow, I mean."

Teddy nodded with some gratitude, although the shiver of cold fear that had filled his chest the moment he had forced himself to accept the Weasley invitation solidified sharply at the prospect. "I probably should. Though how I'm going to face them after…"

His dad's smile was strangely fortifying. "You'll be fine, Teddy. Don't worry."

Teddy felt himself sigh. "It's more lying though. And if Harry's not back until Thursday, it's going to go on at least a couple more days..." He fought down an urge to repeat his mother's gesture and start pounding the upholstery. "This is getting more complicated by the _minute._"

"I know," his dad replied softly. "But we know where we're going now. And we've always got each other to be honest with."

And as Teddy turned and proclaimed "The Burrow!" as he hurled the powder into the flames, he found himself praying that that would be enough.


	13. Rhythms

**A/N**: Thanks as ever to all my lovely reviewers, to Snorkackcatcher for betaring and to my Merry Band of Helpers for being ace in general. ;p This chapter is pretty much my exploration of what exactly happens when one pulls a werewolf through a time vortex...;p

_**12: Rhythms**_

It began that afternoon.

Remus didn't say anything. Truth be told, he didn't exactly know what to say, other than that he felt a little strange, and to begin with at least, it hadn't really seemed to matter. Teddy had returned from his trip to The Burrow with pinched lips and a vaguely harried look and - although he had insisted he was fine and that, in spite of his worry and his guilt, he was determined not to wallow - Remus recognised enough in his expression to know that there was more than a little obsessing going on behind his son's eyes. And so, ignoring his own lingering sense that something was off within himself, he had asked Teddy if he minded showing him the changes he'd made to the house.

Both Teddy and Dora had seized the distraction with both hands. Dora, who was waiting for a potion she was brewing to fully mature, was more than glad to throw herself into a tour of her reformed marital home, asking questions about what had become of this or that knickknack or piece of furniture – to which the answer was generally that it was somewhere in the overcrowded attic – and either admiring, or jokingly despairing, of her son's taste. Remus had been content to let her do the talking, following quietly as he made his own observations of the house that had gone from being his childhood home, to his marital home, to the home of his son, and trying to ignore the growing feeling brewing in his bones that something inside himself was not quite right.

But the feeling, it seemed, did not wish to be ignored. He could feel it creeping into his bones as an ache as he followed his wife and son up the creaky staircase, could sense the strange edge of dizziness that seemed to swirl and shimmer gently against the inside of his skull, could almost feel his muscles tensing, found himself shivering more and more with every moment that ticked by. Nausea, slight but distinct, welled within his stomach. By the time they reached the conclusion of the tour, in the still faithfully untidy study that had previously been his father's and then his, there was no denying that something was simply not right.

He'd blamed adrenalin, or the lack thereof, at first. After all, a mere twenty-odd hours before he'd been fighting for his life in battle, and surely it was no surprise that he'd experience some reaction as the terrifying exhilaration of that faded away. He could still feel every bruise and scratch on his skin from the flying debris of the giant-toppled battlements, and the aches and pains that had come from the disturbing and violent assault of the Portal's red light upon his body…

The thought of the Portal and of the fate of Penelope Weasley had made him pause. Could that be it? Could he be feeling the belated after-effects of being hurled about like a rag-doll in pure, undiluted time? Could the breaking of the Portal be having some kind of an effect on him from all this way away?

It was possible. More than possible. But at the same time, he couldn't escape a nagging feeling that something about all this was vaguely familiar, that he had experienced it before. A dim memory tugged at the back of his mind, but try as he might to recall its details, it would not solidify.

Remus shook himself. No. He wasn't going to allow himself to dwell. Following his wife and son, he stepped into the study, forcing himself to ignore the feeling and smile at the sight of so many of his old books, papers and artefacts still in place upon its shelves. Aside from his son's collection of history books, this room at least had changed very little; the same bookshelves that lined the walls, the same painting of a Welsh Green roaring rampant over a hilly landscape, even an almost embarrassingly familiar air of clutter with papers, quills, books and paperweights littering the surface of the broad desk made of dark wood …

The desk.

His father's desk. The desk he had known all his life, used for much of it, but something was different, something was missing, something that had always been there, been there as long as he could remember…

And then it came.

The memory.

Remus felt himself go cold. The shivers, the aches, the dizziness, the nausea, he knew these sensations, he'd had them before, long ago; and though it wasn't quite the same as the pre-moon aches he knew so well, there was no denying their origin.

This was how he had felt when he had first been bitten. How it had felt to feel his body adjusting, adapting to this new presence, this unfamiliar call, a forced rewriting of his physiology in preparation for the horror to come. He could now dimly recall now sitting in a hospital ward seeing his parents' tight, anxious faces as they tried to explain what was wrong, to tell him about the nasty man-monster who had attacked his mummy and daddy, dragged him out of the house and then changed into something terrible and chased him, chased him, _chased him_ until there was pain and blood and his daddy shouting and throwing things and lifting him away…

His father had been so pale as he'd drawn a gold-and-silver thing covered in dates and wheels and painted spheres out of his bag, and tried to explain to his bewildered child about the cycles of the moon, and how Remus would now be a man-monster himself when the moon was bright and full. But all Remus had really understood at the time was that he felt so funny and that everything hurt and he felt sick and dizzy and just wanted to go home and hug his mummy and play with his toys and forget about monsters and everything else.

He'd forgotten the moon. In all the chaos of the last day, the one fundamental, undeniable fact of his existence had completely slipped his mind. It hadn't been until he stared at the desk, and realised that the delicate lunascope his father had brought into hospital that day and had always kept here in the study was gone, that he'd remembered that when battle had been joined he'd been less than two days off a transformation…

But this didn't feel like a pending transformation. And that couldn't still be right, surely. What were the odds that the moon-cycle twenty years in the future would turn out to be exactly the same it had been in the past?

Not good, he suspected. And that his body was reacting like this probably didn't mean anything good either…

Why now? Why was he experiencing the ghost of a sensation that should have been more than thirty years in his past?

He glanced over to where his son was showing Dora his wide-ranging collection of historical tomes. Neither had noticed his preoccupation. Good.

But that didn't change the fact that he needed some answers. The most urgent of which involved the question of _when_.

"Teddy." Remus was rather proud of the calmness of his tone as he stepped over to join them. "Sorry to interrupt but… I was wondering. Do you know when the next full moon is?"

The bewilderment on his son's face lasted several seconds before the reality behind his question sunk in. He blinked several times and glanced awkwardly at his mother before answering.

"I… I'm sorry dad, but I've got no idea," he admitted with a slight shrug. "Astronomy was never my best subject and it's not like I've ever had to keep track…"

In spite of himself, Remus smiled. _He hasn't had to keep track_. Given all the fears he'd had about his baby son, and about how his condition might affect the boy's life as he grew up, the news that Teddy had no idea when the next full moon was because he'd never had a reason to keep track came as music to his father's ears.

But it still didn't help with the more immediate issue.

And that was staying strictly with himself for the time being. He could feel Dora's eyes boring steadily into his face, but he deliberately ignored her gaze. Both she and Teddy had enough of their own to worry about without a battered old werewolf moaning about feeling uncomfortable, and Remus was determined that whatever his body thought it was playing at, he was not going to let his family know he wasn't feeling well. There was no point in worrying anyone.

Time for an oblique approach.

"It's just seeing the study without my dad's old lunascope in it made me think," he said with deliberate casualness. "And though the fact that you've never needed to have it around is a wonderful thing for me to know, it's quite important to me to find out what it says. After all, the odds of our two lunar calendars matching up exactly are remote to say the least and it's fairly important that I know when I'm likely to transform." He gave a rather grim smile. "It's not something I particularly want to happen while sitting at the dinner table or in bed with my wife. One forgotten change that endangers those I care about is more than enough for one lifetime."

Dora's hand reached out to squeeze his gently, and he smiled at her as Teddy's forehead wrinkled in thought.

"Was it a gold thing with silver globes on it?" he asked with a frown. "Only, I think I remember it. When Gran first brought me here when I was about six, I found something like that and starting playing with it. Nearly concussed myself with it as it happened." He grinned slightly. "I remember because Gran gave me the scolding of my life when she caught me. And she took it away and put it in the attic so I wouldn't break it _or_ myself." He raised an eyebrow. "It's probably still up there. Do you want me to go and take a look?"

"If you don't mind."

"Course not." Teddy smiled wryly. "Like you said, we can't have you transforming at the dinner table. Hang on a tick and I'll go and find it."

As Teddy hurried out of the study and vanished back up the stairs, Remus felt the warmth of Dora's presence press against his back. Her grip on his hand tightened as her chin propped itself against his shoulder, her hair gently tickling his cheek.

"What's wrong?" she asked softly.

Remus managed to repel the rather revealing urge to tense although it was a close run thing. "What makes you think something's wrong?" he replied calmly.

He heard the soft exhalation of breath as she smiled, felt the curve of her lips against his neck. "I know you, Remus Lupin. You can't expect me to see you standing there wearing your best _wrong-what-could-possibly-be-wrong_ expression and not get suspicious. It's more than just a missing lunascope that's got you thinking."

He shook his head gently, hearing her laugh quietly as his hair tickled over her face. "It's nothing."

"Which means it's something." As she abandoned his hand, he felt a pair of slender arms wrap around his waist instead. "Fair's fair, Remus. I told you how _I _was feeling."

He couldn't resist a smile. "After you tried to jump me."

Her embrace tightened as she chuckled lightly. "You can't blame a girl for that. And you can try jumping me if you must, but I will get the truth from you sooner or later. I always do."

"Admittedly true."

"Then why not save yourself the bother and tell me now?"

Remus felt himself sigh. "I don't want to worry you."

He felt her tense against his back. "I wasn't worried until you said _that_. _Talk,_ Lupin."

"Found it!" Teddy's cheery intervention as he hurried back down the stairs cut the conversation off cold. The sudden absence of Dora's warmth against his back was palpable as she stepped away, smiling wanly at her son even as she shot a pointed look in the direction of her husband.

Remus sighed. So much for not worrying anyone.

He turned his attention instead to the very familiar sight of the lunascope grasped in his son's hands. It was just as he remembered, the silver symbols that designated the time and date, the little silver globes cast with magical shadows that represented the various phases of the moon, the gold lattice that allowed the adjustment to see when a certain moon phase would be and the little golden eyepiece he'd always looked through to see when the next of his horrors would come. There were a few dents and scratches on the base that Remus was certain hadn't been there before, evidently acquired in the day or so since twenty years ago but otherwise it seemed to be in decent working order. The date upon it was still set to May 12th 1998, the little full moon globe glimmering behind the eyepiece.

"Thank you." Taking the lunascope from his son's outstretched hands and waving away his apologies for any damage he might have caused it as a child, Remus settled into the leather chair and set the device down upon the desk. The date in the Portal room had been the 2nd of July, which meant that today was…

Carefully, he set the little silver date to the 3rd of July 2018. A glance at the clock on a shelf nearby told him it had just gone 4pm. He set the time, twisted the knob next to the eyepiece, and waited.

Slowly, gracefully, the twenty-eight little spheres danced their gentle circle, settling at last upon one, the little shadow upon its surface shifting slightly to match the time given, as he peered through the magnifying eyepiece and felt his heart thudding against his chest.

Waning. It was _waning_. _Just _waning.

Instead of a full moon lying a mere day ahead, this little device was telling him that the moon had passed him by altogether.

No _wonder _he felt so strange. His body probably didn't have a clue what to do with itself. He was physiologically geared up for a change that now wouldn't – _couldn't _-happen.

A tap against the lattice made his next request. Carefully the globes readjusted themselves until the full moon sphere filled the eyepiece once more. He glanced down at the date.

**July 27th 2018. 9:21pm.**

Three weeks away. _More _than three weeks.

_Agony, tearing, the wolf scraping inside his mind_… In the Portal, he had felt it. Was this why? Had his body been trying to reconcile itself to the call of two completely differing moon phases? Was that why he felt as though he'd been bitten all over again?

"Remus?" Dora's hand was gentle against his shoulder. He could feel Teddy's curious eyes.

"Three weeks." His own voice sounded hoarse and disbelieving in his ears. "The moon. It isn't for another three weeks. But it should have been tomorrow. My body wants it to be tomorrow…"

Dora's grip shifted; abruptly, she slid down and deposited herself rather ungracefully on his lap, easing his fingers away from the lunascope as she enfolded them within her hands.

"Is that what's bothering you?" she asked softly, dark eyes meeting his. "You've felt like the moon is coming?"

Remus started to shake his head, but there was also the urge to nod, and what emerged was more of an odd kind of neck wiggle than any real response to her question.

"I couldn't place what I was feeling until just now," he admitted quietly. "I thought it was the adrenalin of the battle wearing off, or my wounds. But now… I feel like I did when I was first bitten, Dora. I feel like something's come along and reset my body clock but physically I haven't quite caught up yet."

Her eyes were wide with immediate concern. "Does that mean you'll still change tomorrow? I mean, if your body still thinks it should…"

"No. That's impossible." He shook his head more decisively this time, his nose wrinkling in distaste as he remembered some of the less pleasant reading material about his condition he'd examined over the years. "A werewolf can't change without moonlight. When the Werewolf Registry was first set up, extensive tests were carried out to prove once and for all whether or not a werewolf could transform at other times of the month. They tried every experiment they could think of – trying to bait and anger a werewolf into changing, simulating moonlight with illusions, magnifying the strength of moonlight at other times of the month, even Confunding several poor people into believing it was the full moon three days too soon. And yes, they even tried sending someone a day back with a Time-Turner to see if they changed early. Not one of them transformed before the full moon came. Newt Scamander published a paper about it, stating categorically that only the stimulation of a genuine full moon can cause a werewolf to emerge, and I'm certain he was right. Whatever my body happens to believe, it can't happen without the moonlight."

Tonks was gazing at him with horror. "They really did all that? That's one step away from torture!"

Remus nodded. "As I said, there's a paper. Pictures, diagrams, the works. They called them _volunteers, _although I strongly suspect that there wasn't much volunteering about it. I suppose I should be grateful though - at least they disproved the possibility of us growing fangs in the street in broad daylight to the general populace."

"Bully for them." Teddy sounded about as impressed as his mother. "But that still doesn't tell us what's going to happen to _you_."

Remus gently eased his hands out of his wife's grasp. "Probably nothing," he stated with a confidence he was sure his wife could tell at once was false. "I imagine I'll feel a bit under the weather until after tomorrow night and then I'll be fine. Really." He glanced from the anxious face of his wife to his son's concerned one and forced himself to smile. "I'm fine. There's nothing to worry about."

He was wrong.

The evening was indeed, no real problem. Although he felt distinctly unusual, Remus was well enough to assist with dinner, and perfectly able to continue a conversation with his family. After dealing with the more serious decision that Harry and Andromeda should be told as soon as they returned, their talk turned to lighter matters, such as tastes, preferences, likes and dislikes, little things that should have been second nature to know of, learned twenty years late. And although Dora was horrified to learn that Teddy knew only vaguely of the Weird Sisters, preferring the music of two groups called Coven and Merlin's Beard, she was delighted to find his taste in wild hair colours was very much like her own. That he had been in Ravenclaw surprised them both, though not unpleasantly, and Remus was pleased to discover that his son had indeed received an O for his Defence Against the Dark Arts N.E.W.T. With a grin, Teddy had informed him that Harry would have beaten him repeatedly with his broomstick if he hadn't.

And as the evening wound on, Remus had managed to forget how odd he was feeling, had managed to ignore the aches and shivers of his body in favour of spending quality time with the two people he loved most. By the time he and Tonks headed up to bed, he was certain that his entire feeling of strangeness would blow over.

The morning emphatically set him straight.

He had woken to find his stomach rolling and the room spinning out of all control. He had just managed to make it to the bathroom before throwing up, but it was a very close run thing.

And as he coughed and spluttered up the last dregs of his stomach contents into the toilet bowl, he felt cool hands upon his back and shoulders, brushing his hair back out of his face and massaging soothing circles against his shoulder blades. Dora's voice drifted out of the foggy, spinning haze.

"Remus, who _have _you been sleeping with? Because _I _can't have got you pregnant and I know morning sickness when I see it…"

Wiping his lips, and grimacing at the taste of mostly-digested food that filled his mouth and made fighting the urge to retch again twice as difficult, Remus allowed himself a moment to glare at the fuzzy-edged face of his wife.

"Ha. Ha. You're a riot, Nymphadora," he drawled hoarsely. "I'd laugh if I wasn't fighting not to throw the rest of my guts up."

"Sorry, love." He felt her hands gently stroking the hairs around the back of his neck. "Just trying to lighten the mood." He saw her eyes gazing, inexplicably clear in the ever-shifting realm of his vision. "Is this part of your reaction to this… well, _ghost_ moon of yours?"

Remus nodded, trying to shift himself upright once more, but his legs had apparently decided not to co-operate, and in the end it was Dora's hands that lifted him up to grasp the edge of the sink.

"Yes," he managed to choke out. Swallowing hard and grimacing in distaste at what he found in doing so, he reached down and switched on the tap to swill his mouth out. "And I don't think it helps that I wasn't exactly in a sterling state of health to begin with."

The water was helping. At the least the horrible fragments of vomit in his mouth were being washed away, although he still found himself fighting nausea as the room lurched and spun with very little consideration for his delicate position.

"Is everything okay?"

Teddy was a blurry blob of turquoise and sky blue in the doorway, but turning his head rapidly quickly proved to be a mistake. A moment later, Remus was back over the toilet bowl and fighting to keep as much of his insides internal as he could.

"Ummm… Not really." Dora's voice sounded a million miles away, although the touch of her hands as he threw up violently once more was enough to tell him that she was still close at hand. "Your dad's having a bit of a reaction to the non-existent full moon. A rather _messy_ reaction, unfortunately."

"I can see." Teddy's voice sounded sympathetic, if rather nauseated, for which Remus could hardly blame him. "Do you want me to nip out to the apothecary and get anything for him?"

He could hear his wife's voice reeling off some kind of list, but her voice was fading, slipping away and the world was blurring and filling with sparkly lights and that toilet bowl was getting alarmingly close to his face…

With the last remaining drop of his self-control, Remus managed to hurl himself sideways onto the bathroom floor. And then sparkling blackness engulfed him and he knew no more.


	14. Trust

**A/N: **Apologies for the slight delay - I've trapped a nerve in my neck and it makes sitting at a computer not the most pleasant of experiences. And since I have to sit at one for work, it's my leisure sitting such as writing and editing that's suffered. Thanks to Snorkackcatcher and my Merry Band as ever and to all who have reviewed. :)

_**13: Trust**_

All things considered, Tonks decided afterwards, Wednesday 4th of July was not the greatest day of her life.

At least the potion she'd brewed to relieve her personal pressure issues was working, so that for the time being at least, she could avoid the indignity of either having to morph herself to the proportions of those ridiculous self-satisfied Muggle women that Sirius had plastered the walls of his teenage bedroom with, or milking herself like some bloody Friesian in the shower. The potion was meant for temporary relief rather than being a permanent solution, so she'd either have to brew another batch come Friday, or speak to her mum about whatever probably disturbing methods her ancestors had used to preserve their so-called dignity and stabilise their hormone balance, but for now at least, she was feeling more human and better able to cope with stress.

Which was lucky considering that first thing that morning, her husband had promptly proceeded to throw up his guts and then collapsed in a faint on the bathroom floor.

Those few minutes had been the closest Tonks had come to hurling caution to the winds and flinging their cover out of the window once and for all. Remus had been so pale, lying there limply, his eyes closed, his breathing shallow, and all she'd wanted to do was rush to the fire and scream down the Floo to St Mungo's for a Healer to help him, to rouse him, to bring him back to her. He'd been her rock through this whole bizarre business, the one solid, wonderful, unchanged thing that she could cling to, and without his steady comfort, she could already feel the threads by which she was hanging on starting to fray and snap around her. She needed him so badly it was painful, she loved him too much to watch him suffer, but yet that was all her circumstances allowed her to do. Teddy had bolted for the apothecary at a run at her command, but she was a trained Auror, a woman of action, and it felt so bad, so infuriating, so agonising, to just sit here and wait, unable to act as the man she loved lay unconscious on the ground.

This was all wrong!

In that moment, all the frustration she had been feeling seemed to bubble to the surface; it was all she could do not to scream at the realisation that even something as normal and simple as calling a Healer to help her sick husband was denied to her. Her normal life, for all that most people would not have seen it so, was gone forever, and with the threat of prosecution and prison hanging over their son should they ever try to resume it, it seemed unlikely that it would ever be back again. Merlin, maybe dying would have been better than living in this ridiculous limbo…

_No. No, I mustn't think such stupid things, I can't let myself_…

And then Remus had coughed and his eyelids had fluttered and the world had swung right on its axis once more.

With the beacon of light that was Remus to focus on, she was quickly able to chase the darker thoughts away. As she struggled to help him to his feet and get him back into the bedroom, Teddy had returned clutching a sack of supplies, and together they had bundled the weakened Remus back into the bed. With the careful application of various potions, they at least managed to keep him awake for most of the afternoon, coherent and with his now minimal stomach contents remaining precisely where they should. They talked, playing games of chess and cards and questioned Teddy on this or that aspect of how life had changed in twenty years. But as evening rolled in, his condition abruptly worsened, the nausea returning, the aches worsening, before he finally faded back into unconsciousness once more. A quick count of the hours passed since their tumultuous journey through the Portal told Tonks that, as far as Remus' body clock was concerned, it was almost moonrise.

Now all they could do was wait and see.

Remus had been right when he'd said there wouldn't be – couldn't be – a change, but the violent convulsions that took hold of his body not long after he'd fallen into sleep were so reminiscent of his emergence from the Portal and that stupid nightmare he'd had, that they had her wondering for a terrible few seconds if he'd been wrong. But the fit had eased after less than a minute and he'd remained in an uneasy, twitchy sleep after that; she and Teddy had left him to it, talking quietly as they prepared a lateish dinner, discussing inconsequential, get-to-know-you type things until bedtime. Tonks had agreed to Teddy's request that she call him at once if either of them needed him, and then she'd climbed into bed with her twitching husband and slipped into an unsettled sleep.

It was closing on three in the morning when Tonks was woken by the vibrations of the bed to find her husband convulsing once more. This time she held him awkwardly until the shudders passed, and to her profound relief, his eyes opened, gazing at her tiredly as he forced a wan smile.

"Well," he muttered hoarsely. "That could have been worse."

Tonks respected his fragile state enough not to hit him. But it was a close run thing.

Both of them managed a few more restful hours of sleep after that, before waking to find a slightly embarrassed but smiling Teddy lingering in their doorway with a tray full of breakfast-in-bed. With Remus claiming to feel almost back to himself, they happily shared tea, toast and cereal on the bedspread with their son and ignored Remus' jokey protests about the lack of eggs in favour of pelting him with cornflakes. Once the eating was done, and the mess magically cleaned away by her husband's more domestically proficient hand, Tonks excused herself to the bathroom for a shower. Although the potion was still enough in effect to mean that the uncomfortable pressure and the need to physically relieve it had passed, Tonks could feel the slow build up inside of herself that meant it wouldn't be long before the whole cycle would begin again.

Such was the price of motherhood, she supposed, as the water cascaded down her face like false tears she no longer wished to cry. But thinking about Teddy's wicked grin and dancing eyes as he'd tossed cereal at his father, she had to admit it was a price worth paying.

He was her son. Twenty years old, yes, and with a career and a home and a ruddy _love life,_ but he was without question her child and she loved him for it. She still missed the little baby she'd cuddled in her arms, with an almost tangible ache that she strongly suspected would take months, even years to fade, but at least now she could reconcile the two faces of her son and love them both as deeply.

A few flicks of her towel wiped the last hints of the water away from her skin. Pulling on her still rather musty-smelling dressing gown, she made a mental note to do some laundry as she shuffled onto the landing and headed back towards the bedroom.

"I'm just so _scared_, dad. I love her so much but I've _lied_ to her face. What if she can't forgive that?"

Tonks paused, her hand halting as it reached out to push back the half-open door, as her son's voice drifted out onto the landing. Through the few inches worth of gap, she could see Remus leaning back against the headboard, staring with a mixture of sympathy and understanding at Teddy, who was sat with his shoulders slumped on one corner of the bed, one hand wiping its way uncomfortably across his face.

"That's going to be up to her." Remus' voice was soft and calm, but Tonks could tell by the crease of his brow and the look in his eyes that his emotions were paddling like mad beneath the still surface of his face. "But you have to tell her. Believe me when I say that things sound so much worse when they come from other people."

"I know, I know. Like I have to tell Harry and Gran." Teddy's fingertips massaged the bridge of his nose intensely. "I think _they'll_ forgive me. They'll be disappointed and angry I went behind their backs and broke the law, but they'll be so pleased to have you both back as well and that'll make a difference. But Victoire – no offence, dad, but she doesn't know you and mum from Adam." A quick wave of Remus' hand dismissed the possibility of any upset at this statement of fact. "You're nothing to her personally. All I wanted was to keep her out of it, protect her from the consequences, but as far as she's concerned, she'll probably think I didn't trust her. And I could lose her for that."

"Trust is a delicate thing." Tonks jumped slightly as Remus eyes lifted and met hers, and one gentle quirk of his eyebrow was enough to both acknowledge her presence and request that she not interrupt. Her nod in reply made him smile slightly. "When it's lost, it's difficult to get back. If your mother was had loved me any less, and hadn't been so blasted _stubborn-_" he grinned dryly, avoiding the glare of mock death he must have sensed her hurling in his direction "-then she probably wouldn't have trusted me enough to marry me after my year-long steaming great crisis of confidence, let alone to stick with me after she got pregnant and I went and had steaming great crisis of confidence number two." One hand reached out and squeezed his son's taut shoulder reassuringly. "And if there's one thing I know better than most, it's how difficult it is to tell a woman you care about that you've been lying to her." His eyes flicked to Tonks once more, this time filled with an odd mix of apology and wry embarrassment, as she realised just where he was about to take the conversation. "You probably don't want to know this," he remarked, his voice somewhat rueful but oddly determined. "But your mother was the first woman with whom I was ever…well… _intimate_."

Teddy's head rose sharply, and the look of mingled surprise and mild discomfort at this distinctly personal revelation forced Tonks to bite down a chuckle. "Really?" he said incredulously. "But I thought… I mean you and mum didn't meet until…"

"I was thirty-five. Yes, I did keep track." There was something faintly endearing about the flush creeping up Remus' cheeks. "But I'm not telling you this fascinating fact purely in order to hideously embarrass us both. The fact of the matter is, I hadn't lived as a monk warding off women with an air of self-righteous celibacy before that. I'd come close…" The flush deepened to a rich scarlet. "_Very_ close to going that step further on several occasions. But before your mother I never let myself do it." He chuckled slightly. "Not that there weren't several _severe _tests of my self control."

He must have sensed his wife's redoubled glare of death heating his skin because he coughed sharply, his eyes carefully avoiding the door. "Because the point was, I'd made myself a promise. When I was in my fifth year at Hogwarts, I watched my friends and classmates start to pair themselves off and I wanted that myself. There was one girl from Ravenclaw…" His eyes glazed for a moment in misty nostalgia before apparently remembering the identities of both members of his audience and snapping himself prudently back to earth. "But at the same time, I couldn't bear the thought of becoming that close to someone and lying to them about who – about _what_ – I was. It felt like the worst breach of somebody's trust I could make – to not give them the choice as to whether or not to sleep with someone who was, in the eyes of society and the law, a Dark Creature. So I made a vow to myself right there and then that I would never allow myself to become intimately involved with any woman who didn't know exactly what she was getting herself into. And I kept it." His smile was both sorrowful and proud. "I kept it too well. Because I was too afraid to trust any woman I grew close to. I was terrified that I would tell her the truth and she'd run screaming into the night. I couldn't face the rejection and so I never let myself try. I never let myself _trust_. And though in a way I can be grateful that my lack of trust led me to your mother, at the same time it is one of the shameful truths of my life that I have never willingly told another living soul about my condition. Every person who has known that I am a werewolf has come to that knowledge by other means." His eyes lowered towards the bedspread. "And aside from your mother, only one woman I have dated has ever known and she guessed the truth for herself. It was the lies, not my condition that ended that relationship. Every other has ended at my hand because I was too afraid to risk going any further. I kept my promise by hiding from the truth. And even with your mother, who knew from the very start and hence stripped me of my convenient excuse to step back, I very nearly ruined everything. I trusted her. But I couldn't bring myself to trust her to trust me, couldn't believe that there was anything for her to trust and that nearly cost me her… and you." He smiled gently. "And the point behind this blather is this – you have to trust people, Teddy. You have to give them the chance to trust you. Because if you keep trying to hide from Victoire, or if she learns the truth elsewhere, you will lose her without question. By telling the truth to her, I admit you may lose her anyway, but that's _her _decision to make, not yours. Trust her. And trust her to trust you. If what you have is worth fighting for, she'll make the right decision."

The slow, weary, determined smile that spread across Teddy's face matched his father's so precisely that for a moment, Tonks wondered if he was morphing it to match. Quietly, he rose to his feet.

"Thanks dad," he said softly. "I really needed to hear that."

Remus pulled himself round to sit on the edge of the bed facing his son. "What are you going to do now?"

Teddy swallowed a deep breath. "I still think it'll have to be Harry first. I had an owl from Gran this morning saying she'll be back tomorrow morning though. " Tonks felt her heart leap unbidden at the news her mother would soon be returning. "So if I owl Ginny and ask when Harry's coming back, I should be able to see him later today and Gran tomorrow morning. And then, I guess, it's time to trust Victoire." He sighed deeply. "I just wish they were all here now. I want this _over _with."

Remus rose, forcing Tonks to shift position in order to maintain her view as her husband placed one hand against his son's shoulder. "Teddy. Why leave her until last? Go and tell Victoire now."

Tonks felt a surge of irrational irritation – she didn't want that girl to come back here, she didn't want her sharing in a family secret before her _mother_ had even been told… But the look of mingled hope, terror and confusion on Teddy's face forced her to still her personal surge of motherly protectiveness. Remus was right. Their son had been lying to everyone he loved for days. He _needed_ this.

"I… I mean, are you sure?" Anxiety was written large across Teddy's features. "We agreed to Harry first…"

"Do you think she'd tell?"

Teddy frowned slightly. "Not if I asked her not to. Even if she was furious with me for lying to her, she's not vindictive, and as long as she understands I'm going to tell Harry as soon as he's back…"

Remus smiled reassuringly. "Then go. Tell her. Trust her."

Teddy's smile was both relieved and taut with terror. He braced his shoulders manfully. "Okay," he breathed. "I will. I guess…" He gestured down at the pyjamas he was still wearing. "I guess I'd better wash and get dressed."

Tonks was prudent enough to step away from the door as Teddy walked towards it, greeting her son as though she'd just that moment stepped from the shower, as he hurried past her with a nervous nod of his head and vanished into the bathroom in her place. Ducking back, she finally opened the door to their bedroom and stepped inside.

Remus was standing by the wardrobe, still pale, but steady on his feet and looking, by Remus Lupin standards, reassuringly healthy. He smiled at her a little ruefully.

"Did you hear that whole thing?" he asked wryly.

Tonks grinned crookedly. "A Ravenclaw girl?"

Remus snorted as he reached into the wardrobe and drew out a set of robes. "You can talk," he retorted, although Tonks was amused to note that a faint hint of a blush still stained his cheeks. "This from the woman who once told me she decided aged fourteen that Bill Weasley was going to be the love of her life."

"What can I say? He looked good with a badge on."

"And I do remember long, misty eyed conversations with me and Sirius in that first month we met about a certain young Auror called Simon, who you described as having a God-like physique and muscles to die for…"

"Bring him up again and I will hit you with something pointy."

Remus chuckled. "Fair's fair. Besides, you were seeing Simon every day, whereas the last I'd heard of that particular girl was that she'd moved to Borneo for a magi-zoology project she was starting, with her husband and two kids in tow and child number three on the way." His brow creased with thoughtful horror. "Dear Gods, she's probably a _grandmother _by now."

"Never mind, Remus." Tonks snatched up some robes of her own as she squeezed her hair into curls in her preferred shade of pink. It was the first time since the Portal that she'd really felt much like morphing for the pleasure of it. "I rather like the thought of looking so good for my age."

There was something slightly mordant about Remus' chuckle as he pulled his robes on and settled them over his shoulders. "Well, that's one thing, I suppose. For the first time since I was about twenty, I look the same age as my contemporaries."

Teddy's arrival was all that prevented Tonks from thumping her husband's self-deprecating head with a conveniently placed pillow. The young man smiled nervously as he adjusted his robes and settled his hair into a rather contrite-looking shade of brown.

"Well, I'm going," he announced awkwardly. "Wish me luck. If I survive the morning, I'll come back by lunchtime and we can arrange to have Harry come round. You'll be okay?"

Remus grinned. "No wild parties, I promise. And I'll try and stop your mother from wreaking the house."

They heard Teddy chuckling as he headed down the stairs, heard him call out "Shell Cottage!" as the fireplace whooshed and roared and carried him on his way, leaving Remus and Tonks alone in their old home.

Smiling to herself, Tonks dropped herself down on the windowsill, leaning back against the pane as she watched Remus brushing out his thick and permanently dishevelled hair. Why he bothered was a mystery – it was hardly as though they were expecting company for an hour or two yet, and she had always preferred him a little mussed. It brought back pleasant memories that, once potions and hormones were sorted out, she had every intention of refreshing…

Lost in a brief daydream, Tonks didn't notice that the cushion of the window seat was slipping until she found herself tumbling to the floor in a haze of ripping curtains and flurried limbs.

Remus' laughter rang out across the room. "Dora, I just told Teddy I wouldn't let you wreck the house!"

"Well it's your fault then, isn't it?" Rubbing her bruised thigh, Tonks accepted the offered hand and pulled herself uncomfortably back to her feet. "Clearly you've been negligent in your duties as a Tonks wrangler and…"

But the sentence went no further. For at that precise moment came the knock at the door.

Tonks froze. Remus froze. Their eyes locked.

Remus' eyes darted towards the window, to the now battered curtains and the lawn beyond; abruptly, he caught Tonks by the arm and hauled her sharply back against the wall and out of any potential sight. "Was that…?"

Tonks felt herself nod. "I think so. But we can just ignore it. They'll think no-one's in and they'll go away…"

The knock came again. It was a firm knock. A determined knock. A knock that meant business. Tonks had been in law enforcement long enough to know the knock of trouble. Or the knock of those _in search_ of trouble.

_Oh shitty shit_. _That can't be good_.

_We just have to wait. Wait for them to go away, wait for them to give up and leave_…

"Teddy Lupin?"

The voice, magically amplified, echoed up from below, a woman's voice, hard and businesslike.

"Mr Lupin, I know you're there." The tone was dry and cold as ice. "I saw the curtains moving upstairs." Tonks blanched as Remus felt his own eyes widen. _Oh Dear Merlin… _" This is Zenobia Moon from the Auror Department," the voice continued, confirming Tonks' suspicion and worst fears all at once. "I have with me Edgar Fortescue and Dennis Creevey from the Department of Mysteries. We're here regarding Penelope Weasley and the sabotage of the Time Division Portal. We have some important questions and I must ask you to open the door immediately. I have a warrant, Mr Lupin. If you do not comply, I have the authority to enter and arrest you for non-compliance." Zenobia Moon's voice was sharp. "And I don't think any of us want that, now do we?"

Tonks couldn't help but think that truer words were never spoken. But that didn't change the facts.

_It's like Remus said. People can't find out like this._

She had completed the morph before Remus had even noticed she was changing and his wide, horrified eyes were enough to tell her that he did not approve of the plan. But she forestalled his arguments with a hard glare.

"What choice have we got?" she hissed sharply. "She'll be in here otherwise. Teddy won't be back for a while and I can't pretend to be him with people who know him. I'll bluff. It worked with Victoire, didn't it?"

She could see his mouth working, forming words of protest, but she didn't wait to listen.

"Stay here," she told him. "Trust me."

And then drawing her robes around her and squaring her shoulders, the woman who appeared to be Andromeda Tonks turned and hurried down the stairs.


	15. The Heart of the Matter

_**14: The Heart of the Matter**_

Tonks had to admit that - considering the rapid rate of her breathing and her sweaty, slippery grip on the banister - it was a miracle that she made it to the foot of the stairs in one piece. The strange shivery wash that seemed to flood over her as she descended did little to help matters.

_Focus. Concentrate. You are a law enforcement professional. Undercover work is part of your job. Stay calm and think Mum._

_You can do this. For Teddy, you can do it_.

With steely determination, Tonks forced herself to swallow down her nerves. Then drawing herself up into her best approximation of Mum's dignified stance, she reached out and opened the door.

The only indication on the face of Zenobia Moon that showed she was surprised to find the door opened by a woman in her sixties, rather than a twenty-year-old man, was the slow raising of one distinctly sculpted eyebrow. Tonks had to admit that, on first impressions at least, Zenobia was about as different an Auror to her as it was possible to be – her dark red robes were immaculate, her straight, black hair pulled back into a tight and shiny bun, and her sharp, serious-looking features arranged into an expression of imposing, icy menace that had undoubtedly struck fear into the hearts of many a wrongdoer over the years. Her mahogany wand was held loosely, but with intent, in one long-fingered hand.

Tonks could feel her eyes narrowing. _You think you're really something, don't you? There's no place in the Auror Office for arrogance or ego, that's what Mad-Eye always told me, not when there are Dark wizards to be stopped; they've ego enough for everyone, more often than not. Well, you don't scare me with your fake eyebrows and your glare of doom. Right now, I am Andromeda Tonks, daughter of the House of Black, and if there's one thing no one can top my mum on, it's being downright intimidating_…

She drew herself up and fixed Zenobia Moon with her mother's best _Nymphadora-what-_are_-you-wearing_ expression. "There was no need to make threats, Auror Moon. I was already coming."

Zenobia Moon's expression did not change. The two men behind her, however, exchanged an uncomfortable glance. They were dressed in robes similar to the ones Teddy had donned a few mornings before, presumably the uniform of the Unspeakables, and neither looked even close to being pleased to be here; the taller of the two, a vaguely familiar curly-haired man in his forties, was chewing on his lip with an expression that mingled disappointment and resignation, while the shorter, a thin mousy-haired man, lurked behind eyes that as well as showing superficial discomfort, were grim and slightly bewildered. Both had the look of men who wanted to be proved wrong.

Auror Moon, however, had the look of a woman holding a half-raised axe over the execution block.

_This does _not_ look good_. _But at least Teddy's not here right now and maybe we can warn him, get him out of here if something incriminating has come to light_…

"Mrs Tonks, I presume?" Zenobia Moon's voice broke Tonks' slightly distracted chain of thought and she made herself nod haughtily. The other Auror's expression tightened at once. "Where is Teddy Lupin?"

_Oh, you think you can out-terse me, do you? _"Out." Tonks kept her voice clipped and cold. "Visiting a friend."

Zenobia's lip curled slightly into a mockery of a smile. "Not upstairs?"

Tonks fought to prevent any outward sign of the wash of cold that slipped through her body. _Oh Gods, if she searches the house_… "No, of course not. I told you he is out, Auror Moon. I've no reason to lie about it."

Zenobia's expression was oddly smug. _Oh, if Mad-Eye were here, he'd slap that self-satisfied look off your face and no mistake! A smug Auror is a dead Auror!_ "Well then, Mrs Tonks," she said, in a tone rich with the same charming consistency as nails scraping over a blackboard. "Perhaps you would care to tell me why the Locator Charm I cast not long ago told me that there were two people upstairs?"

The strange wash she'd felt on the stairs was immediately explained. _Shit. She may be a smug cow, but she knows how to do the job_.

For a wild moment, Tonks almost considered actually calling Remus down and getting him to bluff some story or other, but another quick assessment of the three arrivals told her that such an act would be a bad mistake. Although the curly-haired man looked perhaps as year or two too old, both Zenobia Moon and her mousy companion looked as though they might fall somewhere within the age range of students taught a year of Defence by one Professor Lupin. And given that two of them worked with the now damaged Portal, the presence in Teddy's house of someone bearing a striking resemblance to his dead father would not be a good thing to reveal.

"Oh, that's Frederico." Tonks gave a forbidding smile. "The decorator I hired in Vienna to help Teddy restore the house. I love my grandson dearly, but if I let him loose on the walls himself, they would either end up striped in neon green and mauve or in several pieces. Household spells are no more his speciality than they were his mother's."

The almost reluctant hint of a fond smile that flashed across the mousy man's features told her that, here at least, she'd struck gold. But Zenobia Moon did not look convinced.

"Bring him down," she ordered sharply. "I'd like a word."

_Damn_. "He's in the middle of a very intricate assessment charm. I'd prefer not to disturb him if possible." She steeled herself and took a gamble, praying that Remus was listening in and would be quick enough off the mark to cover her story. "If you're that worried I'm lying, then do a magical check on the house and you'll find an assessment in progress. But _do_ be careful. The vibrations from your Apparition already distracted him enough to damage a perfectly good pair of bedroom curtains."

Zenobia's lips twitched but nonetheless she raised her wand and muttered the charm that all Aurors were taught to use to check for active enchantments. Her slight grimace was all the answer Tonks needed.

_Nice one, Remus_.

"All right, he can wait for now." Zenobia's expression was grim. "But only for the time being. Where did you say your grandson was, Mrs Tonks?"

"Visiting a friend. To be honest, Frederico and I wanted him out of the way so we could assess the house in peace." Tonks was fairly sure that Zenobia would not be foolish enough to accept the offer she was about to make, but it was still worth a try. "He didn't leave very long before you arrived, and I'm afraid I've no idea when he'll be back. I'd be happy to get him to call you when he returns though, if…"

"No, thank you." _Arrogant, but knows what she's doing. Great_. Glancing over her shoulder at her two companions, Zenobia frowned before fixing Tonks with a determined look. "If you have no objections, Mrs Tonks, I'll think we'll come inside and wait for him."

_Oh bugger_.

Tonks returned the look, stare for steely-eyed stare. "I think I'd like to know what this is about first."

Zenobia's mouth opened and Tonks could almost see her lips smugly forming words like _confidential _and _classified information_, but to the Auror's visible surprise, the taller of the two Unspeakables got in first.

"Mrs Tonks, my name is Edgar Fortescue." He offered his hand and Tonks took it and shook it, glad that someone here was at least prepared to be civil. "I knew your daughter, at least a little, when we were at school." _Edgar Fortescue? Oh! Yes!_ The odd feeling of familiarity she'd felt on first seeing him finally snapped into place. He'd been in Hufflepuff, a couple of years below her, famous as the grandson of Florian Fortescue of Diagon Alley. He'd brought buckets full of ice cream into the common room to celebrate a famous Quidditch victory over Ravenclaw, and had somewhat reluctantly done his duty as a new Prefect by turning her over to Professor Sprout in her seventh year, when he'd caught her sneaking into the Slytherin changing rooms before a match to fill Terence Higgs' boots with Swelling Solution for making disparaging remarks about her mum. She'd never spoken to him much but he'd seemed like a good enough sort of kid.

A kid who was now several years _older_ than Remus. Would she ever get used to this?

Edgar was smiling at her somewhat sympathetically. "I understand this can't be easy for you, being door-stepped like this by an Auror." He shot Zenobia a reproachful glance that she ignored entirely. "But I'm sure you're aware of the accident in the Department recently?"

Tonks nodded. "Poor Penelope Weasley. Of course. Teddy told me about it. He was ever so upset."

"Hmm." At Zenobia Moon's disdainful noise, Tonks couldn't help herself. She shot the other woman a cold glare.

Ignoring them both, Edgar ploughed on regardless. "Penny was using the Time Division Portal at the time but it had been damaged somehow. Teddy was the only person present when what we believe to be the initial damage occurred. We just want to… _confirm_ a few things."

"With an Auror present." The cold feeling was back.

Edgar gave a wan smile. "I'd have preferred without. But this is Departmental procedure for matters of potential sabotage."

"Sabotage?" Tonks didn't miss the glare Zenobia Moon fixed upon Edgar for revealing this crucial bit of information. "You can't possibly think that my Teddy would…"

"We don't know what to think, Mrs Tonks." This time the speaker was the mousy-haired Unspeakable, who up until that moment had lived up to his name. His expression was unreadable. "That's why we're here."

Tonks squared her shoulders. "And as I told you," she retorted. "Teddy isn't. And I see no point waiting when it could be hours before…"

It was at that moment a burst of emerald light filled the lounge to her left.

_Oh no, oh no, no, no_…

"Would you believe it?" Teddy's voice echoed out of the lounge before she could even muster the words to call out some manner of subtle warning. "I get myself all steeled up to do it and she's _out_. Bill told me she's got her interview at St Mungo's for her Healer apprenticeship and she won't be back for…"

She saw him stop dead in the lounge doorway as he spotted his _grandmother_ standing in the hallway before an open front door. His eyes went wide for an instant before he covered the expression with a surprised smile and strode over to her side.

"Edgar, Dennis." He greeted them cheerfully. "Auror Moon," he added, with rather less enthusiasm. "What are you doing here?"

Zenobia Moon cut across Edgar's greeting. "Before we go any further, Mr Lupin, perhaps you'd care to tell me the name of the person upstairs at this moment? I have your grandmother's story but I'd like to double check."

Tonks swelled with Andromeda-like icy rage. "Are you calling me a liar? I told you that he was…"

But the smug smile was back on Zenobia's face as she raised a hand to block any further interruptions. "A moment, Mrs Tonks. Mr Lupin?"

_Oh sweet Merlin, if our stories don't match up, we are so doomed. You know I've answered, Teddy, so just keep it simple_…

"Upstairs?" An expression of brief but deliberate confusion crossed Teddy's face, followed by a sudden surge of fond irritation. "Oh Gran, honestly, I told you I could do that myself. You didn't need to get anyone in."

_Teddy Lupin, you wonderful, wonderful boy_…

She affixed her mum's best _that's-nice-dear-but-surely- a-normal-colour_ smile into place. "I know, dear, but I met Frederico in Vienna, and he had such a wonderful flair for decorating and restoration that I couldn't resist. You've been saying you'd like to restore the house for months now, but I know decorating isn't really your forte…"

Teddy laughed. "I knew you were trying to get me out of the house this morning!"

"Yes, yes, yes." Zenobia interrupted the carefully orchestrated domesticity with an irritable wave of her hand – clearly she'd been hoping to catch them both out, but Teddy's sufficiently generalised but still accurate response had thwarted her. "But that's not why we're here. Mr Lupin, we need to speak to you. _Privately_."

_I can't leave him to face this inquisition alone, I can't let them tear him to shreds without anyone to back him up_…

But Teddy had already seen the look on her face. His smile was sad.

"Gran, it's okay," he said softly. "Go and make sure this Frederico isn't turning my bedroom into a Gothic masterpiece, okay? You'll find the plans I made for it in the second drawer of my nightstand. He might want to take a look at them." Squaring his shoulders, he turned to Zenobia, Edgar and Dennis. "Come on," he said, gesturing into the hall. "We can talk in the lounge."

Tonks was halfway up the stairs almost before the door had closed behind him, only to find Remus already in Teddy's room, grasping a pair of Extendable Ears he'd just pulled from the second drawer of the nightstand. Wordlessly, he handed one to his wife.

"Clever son we've got," Tonks whispered with a wan smile as she dropped onto the bed next to her husband and sent the Ear on its way, praying Zenobia wouldn't be paranoid enough to cast an Imperturbable Charm on the door. "I just hope he's clever enough."

Remus simply put his free arm around her shoulders and leaned into her as they both waited the frustrating seconds needed for the Extendable Ears to weave their way down the stairs and snake towards the lounge door.

"I taught Zenobia Moon," he said suddenly, his voice low. "Bright girl, a Ravenclaw in Harry's year, but scared of her own shadow." He breathed hard, his face suddenly haunted. "I saw her briefly, hiding in a corner during the battle, saw the look on her face when a friend of hers died right in front of her while she was too scared to come out. I wonder if that's why she…"

But his brief speculation died as the Extendable Ears hit an ominous wall of silence. Imperturbed. _Damn!_

Tonks swore more fluently out loud. "Now what?"

Remus came to his feet abruptly. "Another thing I remember about Zenobia," he exclaimed suddenly. "While she generally thought of everything when writing her essays, she wasn't always as thorough at exploring the individual points she made. Come on." Grabbing Tonks' hand, he pulled her upright and across the landing into their bedroom. When he reached the window, with its now crooked curtains, he pushed the pane open a crack and, with one finger touched warningly against his lips, carefully threaded his Extendable Ear outside.

And it was then that Tonks remembered the deep crack in the mortar above the lounge window – a crack wide enough for a thin piece of fleshy string to slip through. When she had commented on it and the draught it created not long after she and Remus had moved in, he had laughed and pointed out it had been like that all his life and was a part of the house as much as he was. And then he had suggested that if the draught bothered her, they could always cavort naked on some other, less draughty hearthrug in the house…

Shaking away the extremely distracting memory of what had preceded – and indeed followed - that conversation, Tonks hurriedly followed her husband's lead. _Oh please may Teddy not have had it fixed_…

He hadn't. And Remus had been right. Though Zenobia Moon had thought to block the door, she hadn't remembered the window.

"… seriousness of your situation, Mr Lupin." The Auror's harsh tone echoed up through the Extendable Ear as she and Remus exchanged glances. "You have admitted to being present when the Portal was damaged and since we now know how that damage occurred…"

"It was an accident." Teddy's voice was low, but there was a pleading note. "I told you, the amulet…"

"Teddy." Edgar's voice was soft but firm. "I know what you told Rajesh and Bert. But I also know it doesn't wash. There was nothing wrong with that amulet before it went into the Portal. And we now know that the damage both to the amulet and the Portal was caused by a breach in the passivity field. And with all the safeguards Rajesh told me they have in place, we know that it could only have been done _deliberately_. And you were the only one there."

Tonks could almost feel the waves of tension emanating from her son. "Edgar, the field's unbreakable, everyone knows that. How could I have…"

"We don't know." This time it was Dennis who spoke, his voice strangely distant and slightly cold. "We were hoping you could tell us."

"And that brings us back to the point, Mr Lupin." Zenobia's voice was also chilly. "Tell us the truth. What part of history were you trying to change?"

Tonks heard the legs of a chair jerk sharply back, presumably as Teddy came to his feet. "I didn't _change history_! I wouldn't! I know better! If it hasn't happened in the past, it can't be remembered in the present! If I'd changed anything, we wouldn't be having this conversation!"

Zenobia's voice was venomous. "That doesn't mean you didn't _try_."

Teddy's voice was fierce. "I _know better_. You can only make things how they _are_. How they _were_. How they _should be_."

"And what did you _feel they _should be, Mr Lupin? What did you feel the need to alter so badly that you damaged an invaluable magical artefact and put an innocent woman in a _coma_?"

"I never meant…"

Teddy managed to stifle the rest of the sentence, but both Tonks and Remus had already winced. It was too late.

Zenobia pounced. "Then what _did_ you mean? What were you trying to do? We know that you went back to the Battle of Hogwarts that night, Mr Lupin. Were you trying to change the outcome? Give Lord Voldemort the victory perhaps?"

"Are you _insane_? His loonies _killed my parents _that night!"

"Then were you trying to save _them_?" _Uh oh_… Tonks heard Remus' gasp even as she closed her eyes in horror. "Without giving any thought to how their presence might alter the tide of the battle, might change events?" Tonks heard the edge in Zenobia's voice sharpen fiercely, and remembered Remus' remark about her seeing a friend get killed that night and doing nothing to stop it. No wonder she was sensitive about it. "But why stop at them, Mr Lupin? Why not go back and save _every_ person who died that night? Why not turn back time and fill the world with happy, living former victims without a thought to what they might change, what might be lost? Why not save Bellatrix Lestrange or Antonin Dolohov? Wouldn't that make the world a better place?"

"I didn't…" But Teddy's voice sounded weak now, unsure, and before he could muster the strength to return fire, the voice of Dennis cut into the room with suddenly vicious clarity.

"You selfish _git_!" For a moment, there was a shocked and ringing silence before Dennis hurled himself on. "Do you think you were the only person to lose someone that night? I lost _Colin_, Teddy, I lost my _big brother_!" Tonks saw Remus' jaw hardening – she knew that the death of Colin Creevey, a death he'd been too late to prevent, was still a raw and aching wound. "But have you ever seen me breaking the Portal to try and get him back? Did you ever see me ruining the Section or hurting someone to try and save him? No! Because I know the law, I respect the law, and I can't believe you've abused our trust like this, I can't believe…"

"Dennis!" Edgar's voice cut short the vicious tirade, but his tone was troubled and not unsympathetic. "This isn't the time." He took a deep breath. "Teddy, I'm sorry, I truly am. I wish I could believe that this was an accident. But everything we have is pointing to the contrary. You know the rules of your Section. You do not touch, you do not change, and you do not interfere. We watch only, Teddy, and you tried to break that. And you know what happens now."

"Teddy Remus Lupin." Zenobia Moon's voice rang out with such self-satisfaction that it was all Tonks could do to keep herself from hurtling down the stairs and smacking her across the mouth. "I am arresting you for attempting to pervert the course of history. You will surrender your wand and come quietly by Side-Along Apparition. If you do not submit yourself to this, use of full magical force is authorised. Come with me."

Tonks did not wait for the warning she knew was hovering on Remus' lips, behind his resigned eyes and expression of profound pain. Abandoning the Extendable Ear and her husband, she rushed out of the room and headed sharply for the stairs.

They had already reached the front door as she made her way down with as much haste as she dared. Zenobia had her son by the arm and was tucking his wand into her belt, glancing at his downcast eyes and shaken features with more than a little satisfaction.

"_Teddy?"_ Tonks called, trying to conceal the furious desperation that made her want to scream out loud and hex into oblivion everyone who stood between her and her little boy. "Where are you taking my grandson?"

She could hear Zenobia spouting some smug sentences about the Ministry and questioning, could see the apology on Edgar's face and the suppressed rage that shook the short form of Dennis. But nothing mattered but Teddy, his face pale and filled with regret and fear, his eyes staring at her, pleading silently that she do nothing, say nothing that might give her identity away. She brushed past them all, ignoring Zenobia's shout of rage, and flung her arms around him.

She could feel him trembling in her arms, his head pressed against her neck, hair tickling her shoulder as she held him close, the body of the woman who had raised him and the woman who birthed him, all rolled up into one loving form.

"I love you," she whispered softly, fighting the tears that pooled suddenly in her eyes, and she could feel dampness against her skin that told her that her son's efforts not to cry were proving equally unsuccessful. "I'll sort this out, my darling. I promise you."

Slowly, shakily, he raised his head and pulled gently out of her embrace.

"I'm so sorry about this," he muttered, his voice cracking slightly. "I'm so, so sorry."

Gently, she raised one hand and brushed his cheek. "You've nothing to be sorry for. You'll see. It'll all work out in the end."

He managed to smile, though he'd never looked less like he wanted to. "I never saw Victoire," he murmured, his eyes meeting hers with a desperate plea. "Or Harry. Or…" He laughed, but it was a bitter sound. "Gran, please. And you…"

She nodded, her eyes never leaving his. "I understand. And don't worry about me. I'll be all right."

"If you're quite done." Zenobia's interruption almost pushed Tonks to the brink of violence. "If you want to see your grandson, Mrs Tonks, he'll be held in the Ministry Holding Cells until his trial before the Wizengamot. And after that…" She smiled grimly. "I suspect you'll have to apply to the warders at Azkaban. Good day, Mrs Tonks. Enjoy your decorating."

With an abrupt shove, Zenobia turned Teddy around and pushed him unceremoniously outside, Dennis following grimly on her heels. Edgar hesitated a moment, seemingly half torn as to whether he should offer some apology, but then, with a sigh, he turned and stepped outside, pulling the door closed behind him. An echoing crack a moment later marked their departure.

Tonks had no idea how long she stood there, staring blankly at the closed door, the tears running freely down her face as she waited almost mindlessly for the door to open, for Teddy to return and announce it had all been a mistake and everything was fine and they were a family again after all. It seemed a small, hellish eternity before she felt Remus' arms wrap around her, felt him pull her against his chest as she began to sob once more in earnest, as the bright, sharp pain of losing the son she'd barely accepted as hers pierced her like a dagger to the heart. She felt her morph slip away as she burrowed her head against her husband's shoulder, and she could feel from the slight tremble of his hands and rapid drumbeat of his heart against her ear that he too was fighting to stay in control.

"What are we going to do?" she heard herself whisper against his robes. "Remus, we have to save him. What are we going to do?"

She felt rather than heard his shaky, indrawn breath. "I think," he whispered quietly in return, "that it may be time to give Harry and your mother the fright of their lives."


	16. Restraint

**A/N:** Thanks as ever to all those kind people who reviewed and also to my beta **Snorkackcatcher** and my Merry Band of plot helpers. I strongly suspect that this chapter is one a great many people have been waiting for...;)

_**15: Restraint**_

All things considered, the arrest of his godson had not been the news that Harry Potter had wanted to come home to.

It had been a very long few days. Years in hiding in Brazil had done nothing more for Cornelius Fudge than add several inches to his girth and provide him with a highly unsettling tendency to wear string vest robes. But as Harry strode up to the white beach house in Rio with its gold-railed balcony and cheerful red flower baskets, the finally-confirmed extradition notice in this hand, all he could think about was Sirius, emaciated and living on rats in his years on the run. His godfather had hidden, scrounged, and starved, and finally driven himself to the edge of madness trapped within a dark and gloomy reminder of a life he'd hated, all because of a crime he hadn't even committed. Fudge had evaded a few months in Azkaban for denials that had cost lives, and had lived like a king in the sun for years under the assumed name of Henry Toffee. He was even influential enough in local wizarding circles to fling barriers up to halt the extradition process, by claiming it was an absurd case of mistaken identity. He'd been sitting on his wooden deck sipping a margarita when Harry had rounded the corner and informed him that, once again, all his machinations had been in vain, and he was finally going to face the consequences of his wilful stupidity. And after listening to his spluttering protestations that he_ hadn't really committed a crime after all, what was all the fuss about_ through sixteen Floo connections, it was all Harry could do to keep his wand sheathed and painful hexes from his lips.

Even as an Auror, it was hard to believe in justice when a good man had died after years of undeserved misery, while one of the bureaucrats responsible for that had spent the last two decades lapping up the rays on a South American beach in order to avoid a couple of months in prison. And so, when Harry had returned, he'd been irritated enough to wave away the attempts of Kyra Stone - the Auror Office Administrator that Harry had appointed to deal with the paperwork that often kept his Aurors from active duties - to have a quiet word about some arrest or other that Zenobia Moon had just made, and insisted that he had to deal with Fudge and was not to be disturbed. Hermione had already been waiting for him, steely-eyed, in the interview room next to her office and they had spent the rest of the afternoon grilling Fudge until his corners singed about everything they could think of. It had been past four in the afternoon when Zach Woodvine, the Auror who'd assisted Harry in Rio, had been summoned to escort the former Minister down to the Ministry Holding Cells, and Harry and Hermione had emerged, grinning triumphantly, to find Ron standing anxiously in the corridor outside, wearing an expression that did not bode well for the delivery of glad tidings.

And it was then that Harry found out just what it was Kyra had been trying to tell him.

Teddy had been arrested.

Harry suspected he couldn't have reached his office any faster if he'd Apparated. Kyra was already waiting for him, looking anxious, as she offered him the charge sheet Zenobia had submitted earlier that day. One look at the charges sent Harry's stomach plunging into infinite depths of cold.

_Intention to pervert the course of history_.

As his eyes raked over the details of the case, the damage to the Portal, Penny's injury, his mind flashed back to Monday night - to the notes scribbled in Teddy's hand that Victoire had rushed to bring him, to Teddy's innocent expression and solemnly sworn oath. He'd said the words himself, of course; _if you're about to try and spin your way out of this, forget it. I've heard stories from Neville about your talent for talking yourself out of trouble when you were at school, and I know exactly where you get it from_… but he'd never actually believed that his godson was capable of standing there and lying to his face, that he would swear an oath that he had no intention of keeping. Had he walked away from Harry and gone straight into the next room to break it? Had trying to do it without the notes he had surrendered so easily resulted in damage and the inevitable failure? Did he really know Teddy Lupin at all? Or was this all some kind of misunderstanding? Had his notes somehow come to light since Harry had stashed them in his study desk three days before, meaning he was being blamed for something he hadn't actually done?

He needed to talk to Teddy. Now.

He'd got as far as the lift before Kyra caught up with him, her expression both nervous and sympathetic as she handed him a second piece of paper, this time an official MLE letter. It was addressed to him.

He managed to keep reading for about ten seconds before turning the letter sideways and ripping it neatly in two.

He hadn't even noticed that Hermione had caught up with them until he saw her dive down to collect the two halves, ordering Ron in no uncertain terms to keep Harry exactly where he was. Harry didn't struggle with his best mate in the end, but it was a close-run thing as his blood boiled furiously at the nerve, the bloody _nerve_ of what had been written, and how dare they, what gave them the _right_ to dictate to him what he could and couldn't do…

"What does it say?" Ron's quiet query cut through the red, misty rage that had threatened to engulf Harry, as he watched Hermione holding the two halves of the letter awkwardly together as she performed a quick _Reparo_ and scanned over the contents. Her eyes darkened as she frowned grimly.

"Harry's been banned from seeing Teddy," she replied with what Harry thought was inexplicable calmness. "That little…_oik_… Aloysius Sproule got himself assigned to Teddy's prosecution while I was caught up with Fudge, and he's wasted no time in neutralising the advantage that Teddy might gain from having a godfather who's Head of the Auror Department. He's applied for a ban on Harry having any involvement in the case on the grounds of _personal bias,_ and that includes visiting rights. If Harry breaks it, he'll be removed from duty." She shook her head furiously, her plait swinging from side to side behind her like a whiplash. "I can't believe that Spyers approved this; the idiot probably didn't even _read _what he was signing. And all the odds are that Sproule's in his office now trying to get _me _banned too before I realise what he's done. Well, I'm _not_ having it!" Her eyes glowed fiercely as she crumpled the restraining letter in her hands. "Ron, take Harry to his office and make sure he stays there until I get back. I'm going to speak to Matilda and get myself assigned to head Teddy's defence team if it's the last thing I do, and _this _will be the first thing I overturn!"

Flourishing her fistful of crushed letter, Hermione turned sharply on her heel and stalked away in the direction of the MLE offices. Harry watched her go, her furious indignation and determination damping down the raging fire of his anger until it burned low enough to be caged once more. Breathing heavily, Harry released a deep sigh.

"I want to bloody _kill _that Sproule," he muttered, although the fierce edge was dulled by sudden weariness. His dislike of Aloysius Sproule was long and well-founded, dating back to the days when, as a newly-qualified legal representative for the Ministry, Sproule had defended Dolores Umbridge during her trial with a zeal that all concerned had found sickening. It'd done his career enough harm that he'd never advanced much under Kingsley's kinder regime, but he still popped up occasionally to make a nuisance of himself. It had been a desire to counterbalance Sproule and his ilk that had led Hermione to move on from her work creating legislation to ease the lives of magical creatures such as werewolves and house-elves into full-blown Wizengamot law. She and Sproule had clashed on many occasions, and Harry had a feeling that she was right when she said the little git was probably working on excluding her for spurious reasons if he could get away with it. After all, plenty of Ministry workers had had the chance to see Hermione and Teddy sharing cheerful lunches together in the Ministry canteen and debating temporal mechanics.

"Get in line, mate." Although Ron was still holding his arm, his grip was loosening. "Come on, let's go back to your office and wait, huh? Let Hermione kick his pasty arse. She enjoys it and she's had more practice."

"In a minute." Still breathing hard, Harry turned to face Kyra, who had been waiting awkwardly to one side. "Kyra, where's Zenobia? I want a word with her."

Kyra sighed. "She's on patrol with Hector Williamson in Knockturn Alley. But Harry, go easy on her. Edgar Fortescue came up this morning and said his boss had told him to take an Auror with him to question a workmate, and she happened to be available. It could have been anyone. Don't blame her for doing her job."

"I won't." Harry fought down the feelings of resentment he had indeed been fostering against his former year-mate. "You're right, of course. I just wanted a first-hand account of what happened. Sproule can't ban me from talking to my staff, can he?"

Kyra nodded with a wan smile. "I'll send her by when she gets back. And Harry – we all like Teddy. I'm sure this is all a misunderstanding."

But as he watched her blonde hair vanish back down the corridor, Harry wished he could share her confidence.

_I as good as promised Lupin and Tonks I'd look after you the day I agreed to be godfather. Please, Teddy, don't have been this stupid. Don't throw everything you have away to try and save two people who are twenty years past saving._

Tea-making had never been one of Ron's strongest suits, but he managed to turn out two acceptable cups without incident as he and Harry settled in Harry's poky office to wait for Hermione's return.

"So how did you get involved in this?" Harry asked Ron, absently turning his mug one way and the other in his hands. "I thought you'd be flat out, watching over both shops while George is away."

Ron shrugged. "Well Derek – you know, Verity's nephew? He's got the Hogsmeade branch covered, so I only had to worry about Diagon Alley, and I had Jasper helping out there, as well as Aeron Jordan on summer work experience. And when I heard about Penny on Tuesday – well, I had to go home."

Harry nodded with a slight smile, very familiar with the Weasley homing instinct at times of emergency. It had always amused him that however far and wide the six remaining Weasley children had scattered, The Burrow was always Home. He couldn't imagine ever feeling that way about Privet Drive. He often wondered what might have been at the house in Godric's Hollow.

"I was there before lunchtime, helping with the kids when Ginny came by." Ron continued, oblivious to his friend's absent musings. "Apparently Teddy used his Floo call to contact Grimmauld Place. She asked Mum to watch the kids, and me to come down here and tell you as soon as you got back that Teddy was asking for you. Then she went back to your place to wait in case there was any more news. I came down here and waited by your office for you to turn up, only to find I'd missed you and you'd gone all _do not disturb_ with Hermione and Fudge. Kyra said she'd tried to tell you straight off, because you needed to know, but you'd been too busy to listen."

Harry felt a sudden shock as it occurred to him that he wasn't the only one who needed to know about Teddy. "Has anyone told _Andromeda_? She's in Vienna until tomorrow, isn't she?"

Ron leaned back in his chair with a sigh. "I reckon she knows, mate. Victoire went over to Teddy's on Tuesday and she was there with him. Besides, didn't that charge sheet you were looking at have her name on it?"

Harry grabbed the sheet from where he had dropped it on his desk. And indeed, listed as present at the arrest was one Andromeda Tonks.

He felt a shameful surge of relief that he did not have to be the one to deliver the news; Andromeda doted on Teddy, her daughter's only child and her husband's namesake, and the idea of losing him would not go down well. Having to tell her that he had been arrested on charges that could possibly land him in Azkaban was not a prospect he would have savoured. Andromeda was a strong woman, but the loss of her family twenty years before remained a fragile subject, and Teddy had always been her lifeline whenever the matter was forced into the light. The image of her on the day after the battle, when he had gone to see her and Teddy to express his sorrow, and found her sobbing inconsolably over his crib, had stayed with him ever since.

"Is it wrong to be relieved I don't have to tell her?" he asked, directing the rueful question towards the ceiling.

"Course not." Ron's voice was quiet and oddly understanding. "And anyway, Ginny's already thought of it. She sent an owl off and invited her to come to Grimmauld Place to wait for news. She may be there already."

Harry allowed himself the brief indulgence of an affectionate smile. One of the reasons he loved Ginny so much was her compassion, and the fact she generally thought of things he would want to do even before he did.

"Good," he replied, taking a brief sip of his now rather lukewarm tea. "She shouldn't be on her own at a time like…"

The abrupt opening of the door of his office killed the rest of the sentence as Hermione marched in, kicking the door shut behind her, and throwing herself into a free chair as soon as she had thumped down a small mountain of papers and legal books on Harry's desk.

"I got the case," she declared without preamble. "But only on the condition I work alongside someone neutral, so Padma Goldstein's working with me."

Her frown did not match what Harry had considered to be positive news, and Ron had obviously read her face and made the same assumption.

"But that's good, right?" he said curiously, reaching out one hand briefly to squeeze his wife's fingers. "I mean, you're always saying how Padma's really good at the job, and she won't take any crap from Sproule either…"

"It would be wonderful," Hermione replied archly, "if she hadn't taken the day off to visit Parvati and her new niece in hospital. She won't be back until tomorrow morning and I'm not allowed to see Teddy or interview him without her present. Spyers has _ruled_."

Ron pulled a face. "Can't you speak to Matilda? Get her to tell him to get stuffed!"

Hermione's smile was affectionate, if a little weary. "I really wish I could. But he's the department Arbiter – that's his job, to make independent decisions and ensure caseloads are assigned without any hint of personal bias. Kingsley introduced the role to stop the kind of nepotism and cronyism that got so many Death Eaters off on grounds of Imperius during the last war. Half the Wizengamot were distant _relatives_ of the accused, and many more were in the pay of the likes of Malfoy. Spyers has to ensure nothing like that can happen again - he may be an over-zealous idiot sometimes, but he knows what he's doing. Even Matilda, as Head of the MLE, hasn't the authority to overrule him. And though I'm not related to Teddy, everyone and their dog knows how close I am to Teddy's _godfather_. He's right, really. This way at least, the law is seen to be fair."

"But couldn't you get someone other than Padma, someone who could help straight away?" Harry leaned forwards, resting his hands on what little of his desk was not covered by Hermione's paperwork. "Teddy's in the cells with no idea that anyone's trying to help him…"

But Hermione was shaking her head. "Padma's the only one with an appropriate gap in her caseload. Besides, she'll be invaluable once she's here…" She sighed. "I've had a quick look at the case briefing. In all honesty, Harry, it doesn't look very good. I'll have to speak to Teddy, of course, to find out what _really_ happened, but the evidence against him is pretty substantial. If I didn't know there was no way he'd be so _stupid_, I'd…"

"What if he _was _so stupid?" The words had slipped out of Harry's mouth before he was even aware of them, before he even realised that his mind had once again slipped back to Monday night, to scribbled papers and Teddy's innocent face. "What if it's true? What do we do then? I know you, Hermione, and I know you'd never commit yourself to something you thought was wrong. Can you defend him if he tells you it's the truth? Can you stand up in court if you know it's a lie?"

For a moment, both Hermione and Ron just stared, faces frozen and speechless, at their old friend. It was Hermione who was first to recover her wits.

"Harry, it _has _to be a mistake. We know Teddy, he wouldn't…"

"He thought about it." Harry sharply cut off the rest of Hermione's sentence. "And I have notes in his handwriting in my desk at home that prove it. I could send my own godson to Azkaban if I hand them in."

Although her lips were pinched and her face was pale, Hermione's eyes were intense. "Harry," she said softly. "I don't know what I'll do if it is the truth. But I need _all _the facts if I'm to find any way to get Teddy out of this mess. Tell me everything you know."

Harry did. He told them about the extra Portal time Teddy had been granted, Victoire's visit, about his hurried trip to the Department of Mysteries when he suspected that Teddy was trying to save his parents, Teddy's denials, and the oath he'd had him swear.

"I thought that would be the end of it," he concluded wearily, as Ron and Hermione exchanged a long, slow look. "I trusted him to keep that promise. I believed him when he said that they were no more than _thoughts_."

Ron sighed. "Bugger," he summarised succinctly. "Ginny told me you and Penny had been worried about him and about him seeing them die, but…" He repeated his sigh. "I always though Teddy was more level-headed than that, you know? Like Lupin always was."

Harry's memory darted back to Grimmauld Place in its grim old days, to a furious and half-deranged-looking Lupin insisting he'd cursed his wife and child simply by daring to be in love.

"I don't know," he remarked dryly. "Lupin had his moments too. Remember when he came to Grimmauld Place after Bill and Fleur's wedding?"

"And when he was going to kill Wormtail in the Shrieking Shack," Hermione added absently. "Oh dear." She echoed her husband's sigh. "But I just can't see Teddy trying to change history. I've talked with him about how time travel works so many times. He knew full well that if any changes someone tried to make had worked, we'd know about it already. It's his _job_ to know. Moon said in the arrest statement that he'd claimed he _knew better_ than to make changes, and I really think he _would_. If he _did _try to do something whilst he was in the Portal, I don't think he was trying to alter the past – or at least not in any way that would affect the here and now."

Ron shrugged wearily. "But we're not going to know, are we? Not until they let you and Padma in to talk to him."

"And me," Harry chimed in with determination. "I want that ban overturned, Hermione."

Hermione nodded. "I've lodged a protest already, but I won't hear the result until tomorrow. In the meantime, Harry, you said you had Teddy's notes?"

"They're in my desk at Grimmauld Place." Harry reaffirmed. "I wasn't quite sure what to do with them. Teddy told me to do what I liked with them." He frowned morosely. "I wish I'd burned them now…"

Hermione gave him the kind of look that always sent Harry back to his Hogwarts days, remembering times when Ron had been lax in some aspect or another of his Prefect duties and Hermione had been suitably appalled. He forestalled the lecture with a wave of his hand.

"Yes, I know, as the Head of the Auror Department I shouldn't be discussing the destruction of evidence with you any more than you should be listening. It was a random thought, Hermione."

"Hmph." Hermione did not look convinced but she moved on all the same. "Well, I need a look at those notes. I think we'd better…"

A knock interrupted her words. Kyra peeked around the door.

"Sorry to interrupt, Harry, but someone from the Floo Office just brought this up," she said, handing the little envelope to Ron, who was nearest, to pass over the desk. "Apparently Ginny sent it to them hours ago, knowing you'd come back via the restricted fire. It was supposed to be waiting for you when you got back, but they forgot to pass it on until now. I've told them they're idiots though, so you don't need to bother. Oh, and Zenobia's not coming back today. Hector said she caught a curse from a dodgy Potions dealer who was trying to evade arrest, and went straight to St Mungo's to get the tentacles removed. I've left a note in her cubicle to say you want to see her though."

Harry nodded gratefully as he spilt the seal on the note, fighting irritation at the news that yet another of the few people who could tell him what was going on was suddenly out of his reach. "Thanks Kyra."

She nodded in reply and vanished, pulling the door closed behind her.

Harry opened the little note, expecting a simple missive telling him about Teddy's arrest and her message to Andromeda. But instead he found two short sentences:

_Come home as soon as you can. Something important has happened_.

He turned the note over, half expecting some kind of explanation, but the other side was blank. He frowned.

"Harry?" Hermione and Ron spoke in unison.

He looked up, meeting the gazes of his two closest friends. "I have to go home," he told them, briefly showing them his wife's terse missive. "Hermione, bring your notes. You and Ron are coming with me."

It didn't take long to reach the Atrium, and once Hermione had sealed her notes securely in the rather battered but deceptively spacious beaded bag she always used for her paperwork, they all stepped into the Floo and were on their way.

The lights were on in the basement kitchen, although the room was empty. As Hermione and then Ron emerged from the fire behind him, Harry started towards the steps that led into the rest of his house.

"Ginny?" he called, trying not to let himself get worried or concerned about the vague nature of the message, or about how long it had been since it was sent. If it was something serious, if something was badly wrong, Ginny would have found a better way to share the news than a misplaced note by owl. It couldn't be the kids, for Ron had said she'd taken them to The Burrow before the message could have been sent. Perhaps Andromeda had arrived with some manner of news? Perhaps…

He had reached the hall, the charmed muffling bricks that covered Mrs Black's portrait narrowing the entry briefly as he stepped past. The cloak rack lurked almost menacingly in the shadows of the corner; Ginny's scarlet flying cloak hung next to a thick, black travelling cloak that Harry didn't… _wait_.

Something sparked in his memory, brief and elusive, darting away before he could grasp it. Black travelling cloaks were common enough in the wizarding world; why would the image of one here in his hallway seem so ridiculously familiar? And since it certainly wasn't his, his wife's, or one of his children's, who _exactly _did it belong to?

He could hear Ron and Hermione moving up the steps behind him as he made his way to the base of the staircase, the gaps that had once held severed elf heads now covered in his wife's Quidditch trophies.

"_Ginny_?" he called again, more urgently. "Ginny, where are…?"

And then there she was, standing at the top of the stairs, her red hair a contrast to her unusually pale face. Her expression was one of trepidation, but there was a strange kind of joy mingled with it in her eyes that Harry couldn't quite understand.

"Harry," she said quietly. "Don't freak out."

Rarely had Harry heard a less promising start to a conversation. He opened his mouth to query it, but Ginny had already continued.

"You've heard what's happened to Teddy, haven't you?" She accepted his nod but yet again forestalled his attempt to speak. "Well, _he_ came by to see you just after I got back from taking the kids to The Burrow." A smile, disbelieving but sincerely happy, trickled slowly across her face. "I almost hexed him. I thought it was a trick, it had to be, but he answered every security question I could think to ask and believe me, Harry, I asked _hundreds_. I even threw in a couple of trick ones and he caught every one. This is _real_, Harry. It's really _him_."

Harry could feel his heart pounding in his ears as he stared up at his smiling wife with confusion, bewilderment, and a fairly intense but inexplicable dread. What was she talking about, what had happened, who…?

That question was the one he finally managed to ask out loud.

"Ginny," he said, his voice incredulous. "Who the hell is this _he_? What's going…?"

But his voice trailed away of its own accord as Ginny stepped aside from her place at the top of the stairs, moved away to allow another figure to step forward, nervous, uncertain, into the light. He heard Hermione gasp, heard Ron mutter an astounded _bloody hell_, but he could do nothing but stare, stare in bewilderment, in disbelief at the man who simply _could not_ be standing before him. Shabby robes enfolded a thin figure, his light brown hair threaded with glinting strands of silver that crowned a face inconceivably, _impossibly _unchanged from the last time he had seen it, twenty years before.

Gently, Remus Lupin smiled, brushing his hair out of his eyes as he stared down at his former students with a gaze so familiar, it was almost frightening.

"Hello Harry," he said. "I think we need to talk."


	17. Ghosts

**A/N:** Many thanks as ever to my beta Snorkackcatcher and my Merry Band of Helpers, as well as all those who kindly reviewed. As the last chapter was a long awaited moment, I suspect this to be a long awaited conversation...;p

_**16: Ghosts**_

It was, Remus had to admit, turning out to be an odd kind of afternoon.

From the outside at least, Number Twelve Grimmauld Place really didn't look all that different. Oh, the miserable, ratty black curtains in the windows had been replaced by something much brighter, and the snake door knocker was apparently long gone in favour of a well-used phoenix head, but the neighbourhood remained the same tatty place it had always been, and Harry had seemingly not bothered to touch up the paintwork on an exterior which, in all fairness, was probably rarely seen by anyone but family and close friends. It took only a quick examination for Remus to tell that the old, if fairly widespread, Fidelius Charm of the Order had never been removed, and he couldn't help but smile to himself. By leaving that one Charm in place, Harry was able to invite whomever he pleased to his home without having to worry about the likes of the press, or random gawpers come to stare at the Boy-Who-Lived, dropping by uninvited.

_Man_-Who-Lived, he corrected silently. After all, Harry was fully-grown, married to Ginny Weasley, and a _father _these days – he'd heard the deeper, more mature voice of his former student himself back at the Department of Mysteries, which seemed like an age ago. He'd come a long way from the seventeen-year-old boy Remus had last seen at the battle that was twenty years in everyone else's past…

Twenty years. Seventeen.

Oh dear gods. Harry was thirty-seven years old. And it was July. In a few weeks he'd be thirty-eight.

They were as good as the _same age_. Chronologically, he was only a few months older than his _school friend's son._

Armed with that unsettling revelation, Remus steeled himself, pulled the hood of his black travelling cloak over his face, and moved up to knock on the door.

No one answered.

No one was home.

He wasn't sure if he was glad or sorry.

What was Harry going to make of this? What was he going to say? Would he be able to get a word in before he was hexed into a thousand pieces as an impostor?

Those were the questions that buzzed through his mind as he settled on a bench in the grassy square, watching the door and waiting for Harry or Ginny to come home. He and Tonks had discussed their options and in the end found only one, for they couldn't help their son in isolation. And so Remus had made his way to Grimmauld Place and Tonks had headed off to find her mother.

And so he waited, lost in ghostly memories of Sirius romping as Padfoot in the square before his necessary restriction to the house, of Alastor Moody stomping over the grass with Emmeline Vance and the rest of the Advance Guard as they brought Harry to his godfather's home for the very first time, of Dumbledore casting the original Fidelius from almost this very spot, and of his own contentious last visit to this place and the terrible things he'd said and done here…

Remus sighed deeply. True, he'd not exactly been in the most stable of places mentally at the time, allowing himself to get too caught up in the horror upon horror that single week had reaped upon Tonks, and all because of him – losing her job, almost losing her _life_, death threats from her psychotic aunt, her parents' restrained but tangible disapproval, and then a pregnancy that could ruin her life forever. But that was still no excuse for the way he had behaved towards her, to Harry, towards Teddy then unborn and unnamed. He should have trusted his feelings but yet again he'd…

His self-flagellation would most likely have continued unabated for quite some time if he had not at that moment spotted Ginny Weasley – Ginny _Potter_, he mentally corrected - swooping down to land her broomstick on the flat top of one of the bow windows. Lifting the hatch into the attic, she grasped her broom and ducked inside.

Remus swallowed sharply. Well. This was it.

Hexing, it transpired, proved a very real possibility. Ginny's freckled face, a mature, beautiful woman's face that was still perfectly recognisable as the sixteen-year-old girl he'd known, turned deathly white when he quietly lowered his hood and smiled at her. She prodded him up to the drawing room at wand's length and, after sending off a hurried owl to Harry, pressed him for nearly an hour with every obscure question about what she knew of his life that she could think of. Since his memory of such events was twenty years fresher than hers, he even managed to correct her on a couple of points, and caught her out in several attempts to trip him up, such as her remarking on the duck's bill Tonks used to make at the Grimmauld Place dinner table (he pointed out it was a pig's snout), and discussing the silver trimmed robes he'd borrowed from her father for his wedding (they'd been Kingsley's, he reminded her, and trimmed in gold). As the hour went on, the questions grew less and less aggressive and a slow, tentative, disbelievingly hopeful smile began to spread across her face, until at last she abandoned the questions altogether and hugged him so fiercely that his bruised and aching body was forced to violently protest. After an apology and a swiftly fetched cup of tea, they settled down, and Remus launched into the long, winding explanation of exactly what had happened to bring this apparent miracle about. They had just reached Teddy's arrest when Harry's voice called out from downstairs.

Gods, it was strange. Seeing Harry standing there at the foot of the stairs was like seeing the ghost of James as he should have been, a James that was Remus' age and supporting his son through Hogwarts and Quidditch and _life_. And Ron and Hermione too – his last glimpse of them had been a trio of battered and desperate teenagers in the midst of a battle for which they were all too young, and now here they were, mature, assured, safe and happy, if currently looking more than a little shocked to see him.

Hermione's mouth was hanging open, her eyes wide. Ron's jaw was working like a guppy's as his brain apparently struggled to comprehend what his eyes were telling him. And Harry…

Harry just _stared_.

It was Ginny who broke the stalemate, ushering them all down into the kitchen, as she repeated an edited version of the story that Remus had just told her while putting the kettle back on. In spite of himself, Remus couldn't help but smile at the sheer _Molly-ness_ of such behaviour. Ginny seemed very much her own woman, but there was no escaping the all-powerful influence of her mother.

Faced with a logical explanation for the impossibility she was seeing, Hermione was the first to recover her wits.

"So Teddy just pulled you both through the Portal?" she queried, leaning forwards with an expression so familiar from her time in his classroom that Remus was forced to mask a smile with a long, slow sip of tea. "He dragged you right out of the battle to twenty years in your future?"

Remus nodded quietly. "As far as I'm concerned, that battle was four days ago. I can show you the bruises I've still got if you're feeling particularly masochistic."

"I can see a couple from here." Ron gestured towards Remus' cheekbone, where he knew the yellowing remains of one particular blow were continuing to defy the best efforts of Teddy's bruise balm. "But…" He shook his red head with disbelief. "Merlin, this is _weird_. I helped carry your _body _into the Great Hall. I _remember _doing it. I don't know half as much about this as Hermione or Teddy do but I thought…I mean…" He glanced towards his wife for assistance. "_Should_ I be able to remember that? I didn't think fiddling about with time worked that way. If it didn't happen, I mean, if Teddy changed it and saved you and Tonks, that means I couldn't have done that, so I shouldn't remember doing it but I do and … _Bloody hell_." He took a hearty gulp of tea and reached firmly for a chocolate biscuit. "I _hate_ talking time travel."

Remus smiled wryly. "If you're having trouble, how do you think _I_ feel? You three do realise that I'm now the same age as you, don't you?"

Ron snorted his tea and biscuit crumbs all over the table. Hermione actually chuckled as she conjured a cloth and handed it to her husband wordlessly.

"Ron's got a point," she interjected, as Ron rather ruefully wiped up the mess his start of shock had made. "Since we still remember finding your bodies, I'm assuming Teddy accounted for that somehow…"

"He used _Geminio_ to make fake corpses." Harry's toneless interjection stilled Hermione's words, his expression strangely distant. It was the first time he'd spoken since the hallway. "It said so in his notes."

Remus had forgotten that Harry had seen written evidence of Teddy's plans. "That's right," he replied quietly. He stared over at Harry, but the not-so-young man in Auror robes was staring down at the tabletop, the light of the flickering fire reflecting in his glasses and hiding the look in his eyes from general view. "Teddy snatched my wand, since he couldn't take his own through the Portal, and used it to make a pair of fakes to leave behind. That way history as it was remembered wouldn't be altered and he knew he stood a chance of succeeding."

Hermione's brow had furrowed. "Would that work? That charm can't create long-term copies of sentient matter. The fake would dissolve in a week at the most..."

"Which didn't matter since they were buried after three days." Ginny pointed out. "And nobody ever dug them up to check they were still in there, did they?"

"_His parents' graves_." Harry had closed his eyes suddenly, his expression ruefully pained as he dropped his forehead into his hands. "_That's_ what I had Teddy swear on when he promised me he wouldn't try and bring you both back. That's why he went ahead and made that oath even though it wasn't true. He knew that if all went to plan, there'd be nothing in there to swear on but _spell dust_."

Remus smiled at Harry, although with his head in his hands, his former student wasn't in much of a position to see it. "I meant to say, Harry, I really appreciated your efforts that night to try and keep Teddy out of trouble. Especially in light of what's happened today…" He sighed wearily, remembered the glimpse he'd caught out of the window of his son's guilt-riddled face as Zenobia Moon had Apparated him away. "Though the oath was unfortunately chosen, the sentiments you expressed on my behalf were right on the mark…"

For the first time since the stairs, Harry's eyes rose and met his, filled with surprise and genuine shock. "Wait a minute. You were _there_?"

Remus' smile was wry once more. "In the next room with Tonks, listening to every word. I hate to break it to you, Harry, but on this occasion you arrived about ten minutes too late."

Harry closed his eyes. "He'd already _done_ it. Merlin, I didn't even _think _of that." His jaw hardened in a gesture so reminiscent of his father when the name of Snape was mentioned that Remus had to shake himself to remember which Potter he was talking to. "But that doesn't change the fact that he _lied_ to me. He stood there and lied to my face…"

"And he hasn't stopped beating himself up about it since." Remus leaned forwards carefully, managing to snare Harry's elusive gaze once more. "If it helps at all, he thought he was trying to protect you." He gave a rueful smile, which Harry actually returned, if rather wanly. "Family failing, I'm afraid."

Harry managed a slight chuckle. "I'm Head of the Auror Department. I would have though my own godson would know I'm big enough and ugly enough to look after myself."

The protracted cough that Ginny covered sounded suspiciously like "_wrong on both counts_" but no one at the table acknowledged it with more than a brief flicker of a smile.

"If it makes you feel any better, I agree with you." Remus raised his hands at Ginny's glare of mock warning. "Not on the matter of being ugly, but on the matter of being able to decide such things for yourself. But Teddy was concerned that if he took you into his confidence and then the truth of what he'd done came to light, you risked losing your job for sheltering a criminal and concealing what was technically a crime. And he couldn't stand the thought of being responsible for bringing that down on you after all you'd done for him."

"He had a point." Hermione's voice was soft. "It's just like what we were saying earlier about handing in those notes. And you know that Matilda – our boss, Matilda Breakspear, Remus; you might remember her daughter Eliza from when you taught – anyway, Matilda would have been forced to fire you if she found out you'd helped Teddy to cover up a crime, especially given what happened to Penny…" She glanced over at Remus. "Was that because of Teddy too?"

Remus briefly closed his eyes. "Yes, though he was almost inconsolable when it happened. He hadn't realised his plans would damage the Portal, let alone result in someone he cared for getting hurt. He takes after his mother in that. I love her dearly, but she does have an awful habit of diving in without considering the consequences, and our son seems to have inherited that impulse to act before thinking things through."

Ron was working his way steadily through his third cup of tea and his fifth biscuit. "Where is Tonks anyway? Didn't she want to come?"

"She's at her mother's." The words came without any kind of thought, but the ghosts of this much altered but still recognisable kitchen, of the last time he'd sat in this very chair facing these three people and said very similar words, assaulted him almost violently. He felt his cheeks grow hot, and the sudden widening of Hermione's eyes was enough to tell him that the irony had not been lost upon her either.

"She's gone to _see _her mother," he corrected himself sharply. "To tell her. Poor Andromeda – she probably doesn't even know about Teddy yet."

He saw Harry's brow furrow. "Hang on, she _must_. She was there when he was arrested. The charge sheet said so."

Remus' returning look was pointed. "She _wasn't_."

Ginny was the first to catch on. "It was _Tonks_, wasn't it? She morphed into her mother! And I'll bet it wasn't the first time – Victoire was telling me on Tuesday how strangely Teddy's grandmother was acting when she went over to fetch him for lunch."

Remus sighed wryly. "She wasn't having a good day. Her hormones are a little… erratic. After all, her body still thinks Teddy is a baby."

Ginny and Hermione nodded sympathetically. Ron and Harry exchanged a look so uncomfortable that it was closer to a shared wince.

"Poor Tonks," Hermione was biting her lip. "I remember how strange I felt for a couple of months after Rose was born. And being pulled through that Portal can't have helped her physically…"

Remus forced down the memory of the tide of red light surging, squeezing at his body, dragging him apart. "It was… a _rough_ ride," he conceded, attempting without much success to conceal his discomfort. "Tonks and Teddy weathered it rather better than I did; it seems it's more beneficial to be a young metamorphmagus when one is dragged through a turbulent time Portal than it is to be a creaky old werewolf."

Hermione was shaking her head slowly. "I amazed you survived it at all. I've talked about the Portal with Penny and Teddy before now, and I've skimmed over the case notes on the Portal they gave me when I got myself assigned to Teddy's defence." Remus looked up sharply at this piece of news and Hermione smiled at him with reassurance. "I meant to tell you that before. I'm sharing the role of Teddy's defence counsel with Padma Goldstein – you'd remember her as Padma Patil. But anyway, the point I was making is this - with that protective field of theirs broken, you shouldn't have survived that trip." She reached under the table, rustling in the tatty beaded bag she had been carrying until she pulled out a handful of papers. "Ah yes, here it is – the technical report Rajesh Chaudhry submitted this morning about the accident. Let's see…Hmmm…" For several moments, Hermione was lost as she read over the documents grasped in her hand. Ron caught Remus' eye and gave him a very familiar grin.

"Aha!" Hermione broke away from what Remus couldn't help but mentally refer to as her _homework_. "It says here that Penny only survived because they'd managed to restore a thin layer of the field just before she tried to step through. But because of the damage, it couldn't take the strain and shattered on her, and the physical trauma knocked her into a coma. Now as I understand it…" She riffled through the papers once more. "Here we are. The actual charge against Teddy is that he wilfully broke the field in order to try and alter history. But if he did that, he – and you – should have suffered the same effects as Penny." She shook her head. "I may have to look into this more deeply. But that doesn't make much sense. By all rights, all three of you should have been badly injured. Probably even killed."

Remus felt a shiver once more as he remembered drifting in the light; vague glimpses of the faces of old friends as they pushed him back to his body…

He shook the feeling away. "Teddy really had no idea that anything so serious was going to happen," he told Hermione instead. "If he'd thought there was a chance of anyone getting hurt, he wouldn't have done it. And Penny's accident really shook him to the core." He shifted his gaze back to Harry. "It was that that made him decide he had to come and tell you the truth, Harry. He was going to come this afternoon but…"

"He was arrested first." Harry sighed. "And so you had to come instead."

Remus echoed the sigh. "Which was hardly ideal. I was rather concerned that I'd give you some kind of heart attack."

Harry managed another slight laugh. "You very nearly did. I thought I was seeing a ghost for a minute…."

The laugh died. The odd, distant look that Remus had noticed on his face at the start of the conversation flickered back into place. His eyes seemed a thousand miles away.

Something was definitely wrong. "What?"

Harry's expression shifted uncomfortably. "Nothing. It's nothing."

Ah, nothing. The most potent non-admission that there was _something_ to be found. "I don't think it is nothing," Remus replied softly. "Something about all this has been bothering you since you first set eyes on me, Harry. What is it?"

Harry was shaking his head, his expression set but his eyes told a very different story. "It's just… well, it's like Ron said earlier. Everything we remember must have happened or we wouldn't remember at all. But I remember something that… that _couldn't_ have happened if you… well, _didn't die_. And you didn't, because you're here, now, _alive_ and talking to me, which means I guess… I guess what happened wasn't as real as I thought." His voice was almost plaintive. "But it _felt_ so realand it meant so much to me and if it turns out I just imagined it…" He sighed deeply, his eyes dropping to the tabletop once more as he fingered the Ginger Newt he was holding in one hand. "I suppose in hindsight it doesn't really matter if it wasn't real. But I can't help it; it does to me…"

Realisation struck Remus with the force of a Reductor Curse. _Of course_…

"The Forbidden Forest," he said softly.

The biscuit in Harry's hand snapped in two with a sharp retort. His head jerked up.

"_What_?" he whispered harshly.

Remus met his eyes, emerald and bright just like his mother's, as he forced himself to think about that strange and hazy visit, about what had happened, what had been said.

"The Forbidden Forest," he repeated gently, keeping his voice calm against the almost hungry intensity of Harry's expression. "I told you I had a rough ride in the Portal, remember?" Harry nodded, although his forehead creased in bemusement at the apparent change in subject. "Well, that was somewhat of an understatement. The truth of the matter is I got stuck halfway through and left behind."

He heard Hermione gasp but he ignored her, keeping his attention on Harry, on his almost desperate stare. "And while I was there, something strange happened to me, something I thought I'd hallucinated until Teddy mentioned that you might remember it too. I felt something call me to the Forbidden Forest. And there, I saw you. And James, Lily and Sirius were there with us."

Harry was almost shaking. "You could just be saying that," he said softly. "To make me feel better. You've said no more than I've told Teddy."

Remus shook his head slowly. "I'm not." He forced himself to think of the crimson light, tried to peel through the vague mistiness of the memory and remember exactly what was said. "You thought you were going to die. You asked if it hurt. And you told me you were sorry I'd died without getting to know my son." He sighed uncertainly. "I don't remember everything that was said very clearly but…"

Harry's gaze stopped him in his tracks. "You've remembered _enough_."

Remus smiled shakily, feeling a little unsteady himself at this final confirmation that his experience in the Portal had been real. "I think they saved me, you know; James, Lily and Sirius. They told me off for being there, told me to get back to my body. And then I was pushed out of the Portal right into Dora and Teddy's arms."

Harry's breathing was rapid and shallow. "They – and you – saved me too. I'd never have been able to go on if you hadn't been there and I _had_ to do it. And it was _real_."

A tentative smile brushed the corners of his mouth. "Remus. _Thank you_."

Remus allowed himself a gentle laugh. "Don't thank me. I don't even know how I got there. And you looked after my son. That's all the thanks I'll ever need."

It was only as he finally settled back in his chair and freed himself from Harry's stare, that Remus became aware that Hermione, Ron and Ginny were staring at them both with something bordering on awe. Remus could almost sense the academic questions about his apparent out of body experience hovering on Hermione's lips.

He reached for the teapot, cutting her off before she could even begin. "More tea, anyone?"

Fortunately, the conversation did not veer into the metaphysics of astral projection while trapped in time portals, mostly thanks to Ron's timely ability to deflect his wife from questioning their friend and their former professor on a matter both had quietly but firmly implied they had no wish to discuss further. Remus filled in the remaining gaps in the story of his return and offered up the possible courses of action that he, Dora and Teddy had discussed. But in the light of Teddy's arrest, the matter was now a great deal more complicated.

"We should include Andromeda and Tonks in this." Ginny exchanged a tired look with Harry as she wordlessly used her wand to clear away the tea things; all five of those at the table were verging on tea-and-biscuit saturation. "If there's going to be a decision on this, they need to have their say. And it'd probably be a good idea for Remus to be gone before I go and get the kids." She smiled slightly. "Can you imagine trying to explain to them why a dead man out of one of the pictures on the mantelpiece is staying with us? And then we'd have to persuade James to keep his mouth shut…"

The snorts of Harry, Ron and Hermione led Remus to conclude that young James probably had about as much subtlety and discretion as his namesake at that age.

"Dora and I are fine to stay at Teddy's house, provided they don't plan on searching the place," he offered. "Or we could stay with Andromeda. We wouldn't dream of imposing ourselves on you."

Ginny laughed. "I won't say it wouldn't be a bit inconvenient," she admitted. "But if we had decided you were going to impose, believe me there'd be no declining."

"You told Tonks you'd join her at Andromeda's, didn't you?" Hermione was whisking her papers back into the beaded bag. When Remus nodded, she continued. "Well, then we should all go there. Talk this thing out with everyone present."

Ginny was already shaking her head. "I promised Mum I'd collect the kids about now, and besides, my deadline for that Harpies-Cannons match report is tomorrow. You four go." She moved over to where Remus had just come to his feet and caught him in a rather gentler hug.

"Remus, it's so good to have you back," she said sincerely. "And give Tonks my love and tell her I hope to see her soon."

Remus smiled down at her, a wonderful woman grown out of a wonderful girl. "Thank you, Ginny."

"We haven't really said that, have we?" Ron remarked suddenly as he strode around the table to slap Remus firmly on the back. "Ginny's right. Whatever happens, it's bloody _brilliant _to see you again."

"It's fantastic. It's _wonderful_." This time the hug was from Hermione. "Oh, _Remus_."

"It is." Smiling quietly, Harry took his hand and shook it firmly. "It's a miracle. And whatever the consequences, I'm not sorry to have you back."

Ron had already grabbed a handful of Floo powder from the mantle. "Shall we?" he said.

It was decided that Remus should go last, in case they needed to shove him back into the Floo at the sight of any unexpected faces. Hermione also insisted he don his travelling cloak and pull the heavy hood up to cover his face. It was a prudent precaution. And Remus agreed.

And so it was he tumbled out of the Floo into Andromeda's familiar-yet-different kitchen only to stumble straight into the backs of his three companions. All of them were frozen, eyes wide, as they exchanged nervous looks and reached for their wands.

A moment later, Remus understood why.

_CRASH!_

"Mum! Put the wand _down_!"

"Don't _call _me that!"

SMASH! 

"Mum!_ Please_!"

"_Stop it_! You cruel… You _evil_… Is this some Rita Skeeter ploy to finally get that story of the Blacks she's always badgering me about? Is this Rudolph Spragg getting his sick revenge because I came to the conference and heckled his speech?"

"Mum, no! It's not revenge and it's not a ploy! I'm alive! It's really me! I'm Nympha…"

"NO!" Andromeda's voice was a roar, choked with pain, desolation, anguish and fury. "No, no, _no_! I don't know _who_ you are or why you're playing this _sick game_ but I want you _out _of this house _right now_! Nymphadora is _dead_! You are _not_ my _daughter_!"


	18. Homecoming

_**17: Homecoming**_

Tonks couldn't quite believe how little her childhood home had changed in twenty years. To her mind, it had been a mere four days since she had last stood in this quiet garden under the waxing moon, since she had kissed her little baby boy on the forehead and handed him to her pale and anxious mother, before turning and Apparating away to face her fate. And standing here now, staring at the tidy window-boxes, the neatly painted frames, and the patterned curtains that seemed almost to have been plucked straight from her mind's eye, she found she could almost believe that if she knocked on the door, her mother would open it with baby Teddy sucking his little fist in her arms.

But Teddy was no baby now. He needed her help. Just as she needed her mum's.

Not wanting to scare the life out of her mother, she had donned a set of nondescript robes and morphed herself into an equally nondescript looking Ministry worker before kissing Remus goodbye, wishing him luck, and Apparating on her way. She had formulated a rough sort of plan involving gaining admittance on the grounds of quizzing her about Teddy's supposed misdeeds and then letting the morph drop once they were in private, but as it turned out, it was unnecessary. Her knock at the door had received no answer. Andromeda was still in Vienna.

That left Tonks in rather a quandary. She had no way of knowing whether her mother would be back that day – from all she'd heard, the conference wasn't due to finish until tomorrow. She assumed that her mum would be back as soon as she heard about Teddy, but then the alarming thought dawned that since 'Andromeda Tonks' had been present at the arrest and had told Victoire Weasley of her return, all those who might have contacted her had probably assumed that she already _knew_. Mum most likely knew nothing of what was going on.

Damn.

Trying to ignore the surge of guilt at this prospect, Tonks made a snap decision. Reaching for the house key labelled _Gran's_ that she had found in Teddy's drawer, she slipped it into the lock and let herself inside.

Although the outside had seemed to have been preserved almost by conscious effort, the inside of the house showed the evolution of time in a way that Tonks found both encouraging and unsettling. New paper covered the walls of the hallway, changed from her childhood mustard yellow to patterned forest green. The old golden carpet that had told the stories of her numerous childhood accidents, of mud trampled in so many times that not even her mother's best _Scourgify _could remove the stains, had disappeared as well, though the old hall table and gilt-edged mirror were reassuringly familiar. A quick glance to her left showed the same pattern of change in the dining room – new decoration surrounded well-known old furniture, although the dining room chairs had been re-covered and the plants had been replaced. The lounge to her right was utterly changed – the battered old three-piece suite that she had bounced on and ripped the cushions from to make her forts, in order to repel the evil armies of Daddyness, had apparently finally succumbed after years of abuse and been consigned to oblivion, replaced by a more durable model. Although her mother's favourite delicate side tables remained, as did the inset bookshelves, the fireplace had been Transfigured into a new design, and even the sideboard and dresser were new. Next door down the corridor, the little ground floor bedroom they had always used for guests appeared to have been converted into her mother's study, but the kitchen, jutting out into the garden as it always had, had been replaced completely apart from the sizable fireplace at one end. A quick glance into the garden told her that the pond remained and that the trees had grown by quite some margin, including the gnarled old oak in which she had built her tree house – at least once her father had covered the ground beneath in a wide assortment of cushioning charms. A hint of plank between the leaves implied that the old wreck she had left up there had apparently been restored for the use of her son.

Her heart positively ached when she moved upstairs and peered into her parents' – her _mother's_ bedroom. Here at least, time really had stood still. Not a stick of furniture, not a picture, not even the bedspread had changed since she had last stood here. The only thing that was not as it had been was the large picture frame propped up upon the bedside table that had been her father's. From within, Dad's face laughed with silent joy as he threw and caught his giggling baby daughter in his arms.

Her old bedroom had apparently been given over to Teddy, although it was now little more than a storage facility for clothes and toys that he had long outgrown. The bathroom too was different, although the familiar and vast glass cabinet where her mother had kept the necessary array of healing potions remained.

Tonks had no idea how long she spent wandering around the house and garden, drinking in and absorbing the changes one by one, smiling at the memories evoked by this or that piece of familiarity, frowning as she acknowledged silently just how much of what had still made this place feel her home had gone. It was like coming back to an old home that had been bought by someone else, or visiting someone who had purchased a heap of her family's old furniture. It was the house in which she'd been raised, in which she'd laughed and played with her parents, acted out suitably teenage strops, and studied for her Auror qualifications until she had finally moved out aged twenty to share a flat with a friend. But somehow, it wasn't. Not anymore.

Twenty years. It was so _long_.

She had accepted the changes to the home she had shared with Remus. After all, she had known it barely a year and so much of it was _his_ past, _his _history, and perhaps seeing it altered so had been what had made him so ready to acknowledge the magnitude of time they had lost. But it was here, now, seeing the changes wrought on _her_ history by twenty years passed in the blink of an eye that it truly hit her hard. Twenty years was how long she had lived here. Twenty years worth of her memories and more echoed through these rooms. And there had been so much laughter, so many tears, so many triumphs and accidents, the extraordinary and the everyday, so much living, so much of her life… And the same had passed again, for her mum and Teddy within these walls. They'd had their laughs and sorrows here, as many as she had, and the house had changed to reflect those days and crowd her memories away.

And the new memories – memories of her mother and her son – weren't hers to share in.

The weight of the years she had lost seemed to crash down upon her all at once. As she entered the lounge once more, she sat down heavily in one of the new but well-worn armchairs. Had Teddy made his forts from their cushions to ward off the armies of Granness? Had he fallen and tumbled here, knocked delicate tables flying and tripped over his shoelaces? Had he spilt his ice cream on the rug and watched his grandmother's eyebrow rise pointedly at the sight of the mess? Had he wrangled with her about this or that hair colour, but ended the dispute with an impromptu hug and a grin just as she had?

She'd missed so much.

To her left, the bookcase inset into a hollow in the wall was strewn with picture frames. One by one, she reached up from her seated position and lifted them down, looking them over, remembering, yearning at the sight of her family laid bare; her parents' wedding picture, two young, fresh-faced teenagers barely days out of Hogwarts, arm in arm in her Grandma Tonks' back garden; a young Sirius in his school robes, laughing, with his arm slung around the shoulders of his older cousin; a tiny baby with a red face and ever-changing hair cuddled in her pale but beaming mother's arms, her dad crouched down beside them; herself as a toddler, in the ruins of one of her cushion forts as the forces of Daddyness pinned her ruthlessly to the rug and tickled her without mercy; a beaming green-haired girl lurking in a tatty tree-house; herself again, this time scarlet-haired as she ripped into a pile of Christmas presents with an expression of utmost glee, her mother watching from behind and laughing in silent merriment. She clearly remembered the day her dad had taken the picture of her in her Hogwarts uniform, holding her wand with the Hogwarts Express in the background – gods, in spite of the smile she was wearing she'd been so scared and she'd run back to hug her mum and dad so many times that she'd almost missed the train. The next shelf seemed to move into the next phase of her life – she was wearing her Auror robes and happily holding the certification that marked the completion of her training, as Mum and Dad stood proudly on either side. Her parents' twentieth wedding anniversary photo stood beside it, and the last picture Dad had taken of them all with Grandma Tonks before she died. And then, oh then, her own wedding photo as she stood comfortable and beaming in the circle of Remus' arms. And the next picture… herself with her father, dressed up neatly in his best as he gave her away…

No, she still wasn't ready for that yet. She shifted her gaze to the picture of herself looking exhausted but radiant as she clasped a red-faced and rainbow-haired bundle of her own.

No, she wasn't ready for that yet either.

But it was the next shelf that caught her eye. For on the next shelf, arrayed out in bright colours were all the memories she'd missed; green-haired Teddy as a toddler running around the garden; blue-haired Teddy grinning as he mounted the toy broom Harry had just handed him; red-haired Teddy in the tree house, just as she had once been; black-haired Teddy with Harry and her mum at Christmas, and then Teddy, turquoise-haired and standing on Platform Nine and Three Quarters with his grandmother…

Her son. And of his childhood she had nothing but someone else's photos…

She stared at the final picture for a long time, lost in a confusing blend of her own memories of her dad's warm arms as he hugged her a final time before shooing her onto the train and her own attempts to visualise Teddy beyond the confines of the picture. Had he run back for one final hug from his Gran? Had he taken a cat, an owl or a toad along? Had he made friends on the train, or had that come later, when he had joined his Ravenclaw housemates?

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew that she heard the rush of rising flames, saw a glow of green out of the corner of her eye. Some part of her heard the footsteps moving in the kitchen and then down the hall. But her conscious brain did not react until she heard the gasp of shock and the crash of a small trunk falling to the floor.

"_What_…? Who are _you_? What do you think you're doing in _my house_? How did you…?"

Tonks shot to her feet without thinking, the picture dropping from her hand almost guiltily as she scrambled to compose herself, to scrape together her pre-planned story about questioning to ease the blow before it came. But as Andromeda's eyes fixed upon her, widened, stared, as the blood drained from her cheeks and her wand hand, half extended, began to tremble, Tonks knew the truth without even having to look.

At some point in her long, nostalgic wanderings, her disguise had melted away.

So much for softening the shock.

She allowed herself a brief, self-indulgent moment to stare. Mum was older, of course, her long brown hair now threaded with streaks of silver that matched her deep grey eyes, her face slightly more lined, but her clothes, in spite of a trip through the Floo, were as immaculate as ever. Her wedding ring still glistened on one finger, and Tonks could just see the edge of the pendant she'd always worn, containing locks of hair from her husband and daughter, peeking out of the collar of her robes.

And she was shaking like a leaf.

Her mum never shook. _Never_.

"Mum." The word was soft, almost a whisper, but Andromeda flinched away from it as though someone had struck her a physical blow. "Mum, it's me."

Andromeda's lips scrunched together as though she'd tasted something foul. Her eyebrows knitted fiercely together.

"_Who are you_?" she exclaimed, her voice trembling, and it was all Tonks could do not to rush forwards, to hold her, to take her in her arms and hug her mum until she understood that this was all for real. "And _how dare you_ come into my house and wear _that face_?"

Tonks tried to smile. "Well, it's _my _face, Mum. It seemed like a good idea to bring it with me. I can change it if you want but…"

Mum drew herself up, her gaze so intense Tonks was surprised it didn't ignite the furniture. "Don't you _dare_ make light of what you're doing! You come into my house wearing the face of my _dead daughter_ and then you have the nerve to _joke _about it?"

Tonks was not sure what she'd expected to happen when she showed up out of the blue to tell her mother she hadn't died twenty years ago after all, but she could tell by the look on her mum's face that the situation was deteriorating rapidly.

She raised her hands in front of her. "Mum, please. I know this must be confusing for you. But I promise you, this is for real and if you'd just lower your wand and take a seat, I'll explain everything…"

"I don't _want _your explanations!" The shriek that issued from her mum's mouth all but knocked her backwards. "I don't _want _to hear your _lies_! I just want you out of my house! Now _get out_! Get out or do I have to _make you go_?"

"Mum!"

"SHUT UP!"

The magical blow came from nowhere, hurling her backwards into the chair and knocking her sprawling into the poker stand by the fireplace with an echoing crash. Fighting the pain that surged through her knees and arm, Tonks scrambled for her own wand as she raised one desperate hand in an effort to ward off further blows.

"Mum!" she cried out, almost pleadingly. "Put the wand _down_!"

"Don't _call _me that!"

The second blow missed her by inches as she dived aside, but the delicate table with its ornate vase was not so fortunate. Her arm caught against the wood as she tumbled and sent the ornament flying to the ground to smash emphatically into pieces. 

Tonks did the only thing she could think of. Diving behind the arm of the settee, she took cover.

"Mum!" she shouted desperately."_Please_!"

"_Stop it_!" This cry at least was not punctuated by an attack. A tremulous note had crept into her mother's tone, an edge of hurt, of despair that tinged the corners of the raging anger. "You cruel… You _evil_…" She flung the words across the room. "Is this some Rita Skeeter ploy to finally get that story of the Blacks she's always badgering me about? Is this Rudolph Spragg getting his sick revenge because I came to the conference and heckled his speech?"

Tonks closed her eyes. Of course Mum wasn't going to just believe that her dead daughter had strolled back into her living room. Of course she would think it a hoax or a trick. But how on earth was she supposed to calm her down enough to convince her that it wasn't?

"Mum, no!" she called out with as much sincerity as she could muster when crouched below the arm of a settee. "It's not revenge and it's not a ploy! I'm alive! It's really me!" She hesitated before forcing herself to say the hated name. "I'm Nympha…"

"NO!" Andromeda's voice was a roar, choked with pain, desolation, anguish and fury, tearing at her daughter's heart. "No, no, _no_! I don't know _who_ you are or why you're playing this _sick game_ but I want you _out _of this house _right now_! Nymphadora is _dead_! You are _not_ my _daughter_!"

Tonks could feel tears prickling suddenly in the corners of her eyes – _hormones, bloody hormones!_ – and angrily she forced them back, forced herself to concentrate, to try to focus, but all she could think was that her own mother was screaming and crying and throwing spells and it was all her fault. And she had no idea what she could do to put it right…

And then, thank you Merlin, the cavalry arrived.

"Andromeda! Wait! _Andromeda_!"

At the sound of Harry's voice, Tonks risked a glance over the settee's arm. Harry, a filled out and mature Harry dressed in Auror robes and radiating silent authority, stood braced in the doorway, his own wand drawn, but his hands were raised in a placatory fashion as he stared at the trembling Andromeda with wary understanding. Fresh footsteps sounded in the hall behind him, but a quick wave of his hand held his companions back, just out of sight. It didn't take much thought to realise why. If Andromeda was reacting this badly to one supposedly dead person in her sitting room, how would she cope with two?

Her mother's features were contorted now with a potent mix of revived grief, bewilderment and fury – in a brief, horrible flash of thought that she quickly thrust away, Tonks found herself reminded of Bellatrix's maddened expression. Her wand hand, still shaking madly, was pointed in no particular direction.

"Harry," she gasped out almost desperately. "You have to arrest her, Harry, she's broken into my house and she's pretending, she's pretending to be…"

The sentence dissolved into a sob. Harry's face flickered with sympathy, but he held his wary stance in the doorway as his eyes flicked over to Tonks' place of concealment. He flashed her a brief but sincere smile before turning back to face her mother.

"Andromeda," he said softly. "Andromeda, it's all right."

"It's not all right!" Tonks knew her mum well enough to realise that only stubbornness and shock were keeping the tears from flowing. "My daughter! My Nymphadora! She's mocking my loss! She's…"

"She's not." The sentence was soft, but it stilled Andromeda's protests immediately. "Andromeda, I understand. Believe me. I know exactly how you feel, how confused you are, how you can't quite bring yourself to believe what your eyes are seeing. You're searching around for another explanation because it's impossible, it can't be true and you're too scared of what'll happen if you let yourself hope…"

"Harry." Her mother's voice was a whisper now, almost a plea, as something indefinable sparked behind her eyes. "It can't be…"

"It can." Harry was smiling now, soft and cautious. "I've just had the same experience. But if you know about Teddy and what's happened, you must see how this can make sense. When it happened to us, when _he _came to us after Teddy's arrest… Andromeda, he answered every question we put to him and he knows… he knows things that _only_ he could know. And since he's real, to me that says Tonks is real too."

"_He_?" Andromeda croaked the word out.

Harry turned and quietly beckoned. And then, slowly, carefully, rather nervously, Remus stepped into the doorway behind him. Cautiously, he smiled.

"Hello, Andromeda," he said.

The noise that came from her mother's throat was best described as a strangulated gasp. The wand dropped from her fingertips and landed with a thud on the rug as she staggered backwards, slumping like a broken puppet into the chair Tonks herself had vacated only a minute before. Her breath surged out in tiny, desperate whimpers as her eyes stared disbelievingly, flicking from Remus to Tonks and back again before finally settling on her daughter with an intensity so sharp it almost stung her skin.

"But it _can't_ be…" she whispered to herself. "It's impossible. You're _dead_. I identified the body. I _buried _you. So how can you be here…? How can you both…? And you haven't changed, you haven't _aged_…"

"Mum." Her mother didn't flinch back from the name this time, which Tonks could only regard as progress. Carefully, she rose to her feet and moved out of her hiding place, crossing the room step by cautious step to where her mother sat, staring searchingly, almost desperately into her face. "Mum, we'll explain everything, I promise. But it's like Harry said. This is real. And if you want to be sure, you can ask me anything." Her own breathing was shallow now, and rapid. "There are so many things that are just ours, Mum, so many things that only got shared between you, me and Dad. Test me. Let me show you." The damned tears were back, welling in the corners of her eyes. "Let me prove that I really am _your little girl_."

Andromeda's gaze was oddly blank, in spite of its drilling nature. "Very well. That awful rag doll your Uncle Bernard bought you when you were eight that you hated so much – what did you do with it?"

Tonks couldn't help the slight flush that stained her cheeks. "I put it in my toy catapult and flung it out of my bedroom window into the pond. And then when it didn't sink, I gave it to next-door's dog as a chew toy. And you and Dad made me promise not to tell anyone about it so Uncle Bernard wouldn't be offended."

The corners of her mother's mouth twitched but her serious expression remained. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Remus fighting a chuckle and resolved to thump him thoroughly later. The fact that his mother had died before they'd met, and that she'd met his father only once before he had passed away early in their dreadful year apart, had meant he'd always had the advantage when it came to the revelation of embarrassing childhood stories. Dad had been happy to provide his son-in-law with tales of her antics once he accepted the idea of their marriage and her pregnancy, by way of warning him what to expect when his own child was born. She had always considered it most unfair…

But her mother was speaking once more. "Where did your father always sit at the dining room table?"

Tonks swallowed hard as she was swamped by memories of her dad leaning back in his chair, making bad jokes, complimenting Mum on the food and allowing himself to indulge in brief food fights with his daughter while Mum smiled and pretended not to be looking…

"Nearest the window," she replied, trying to keep her voice from breaking. "With me on his left and you on his right, near the door. And he slept on the left side of your bed too, as you look from the landing."

Andromeda's lips quivered at the additional information but she still, somehow, she held her tight features in check.

"What kind of animal did your Grandma Tonks keep in her back garden?"

That was too easy. "Rabbits, hundreds of them. Her neighbours always used to complain. And Uncle Bernard always claimed he couldn't visit her very often because he was allergic, even though Dad thought he was talking crap."

There was something fragile, uncertain, almost tentative in Andromeda's gaze now. "Your Grandma allowed you to name the four little white ones that were born on your birthday. What did you call them?"

Tonks couldn't help but smile. "Eeny, Meeny, Miny and Mo."

The questions abruptly came thick and fast, fired at her with a bizarre combination of aggression and hope.

"Name three things your father refused to eat."

"Sausages, peas and eggs. I hate the latter two myself."

"What colour were the curtains in your bedroom before you went to Hogwarts?"

"A weird kind of mauve with swirly purple bits."

"What happened to them?"

"I tried to fix a split hem without your help and accidentally set them on fire."

"What did you draw me doing on the Mother's Day card your dad helped you make for me when you were seven?"

"Giving me a cuddle."

"How many days notice did you give me for your wedding to Remus?"

"Two. Which is about as many as we gave ourselves."

Her mother was shaking again, but the rage was gone, the grief dispelled, replaced by a frantic, almost desperate yearning. Her eyes locked with her daughter's and froze her in place.

"The last time I saw you," she whispered softly, her voice carrying intensely in spite of the lack of volume. "On the night you went to Hogwarts, you kissed Teddy on the forehead as you left. What colour did his hair turn?"

Tonks could barely breathe, her mind swamped by the image of her little baby boy, just able to smile as he looked up at her and instinctively, almost accidentally changing his hair to match her own…

"Pink." The word slipped out almost unbidden. "He matched it to mine – the first time he'd done it on purpose. And mine was bubblegum pink."

It was as though something inside her mother broke, a barricade against emotion rupturing like a broken dam within her eyes. Tonks had barely realised her mother was moving until her gloriously familiar arms flung around her daughter's body, grasping her so hard it was almost painful, and then she was holding her too, embracing her with all her strength, her mummy, her _mum_. Sobs shook her body, although whether they were Mum's or hers, she simply couldn't tell. Mum's wonderful, reassuring smell engulfed her as she buried her face into the long, silky hair, listening as her mother whispered her name in disbelief and reverence, barely able to believe herself that this was finally happening, that she had her mother back again and everything would be all right.

It took a long time before either woman was calm enough to let the other go. But finally, they had broken their teary hold and settled, holding each other's hands, on the settee. Ably aided by Remus, Tonks had explained to her mum exactly how Teddy had come to haul them from the past into their now, and the trouble it had led him into as a consequence. Andromeda had confessed she had known nothing of Teddy's predicament and Penny's accident until she had received an inexplicable message via a fairly exhausted owl from Ginny whilst in Vienna – since Harry's wife had used the name alone and not an address, the owl, instead of the short trip expected, had flown all the way across the Continent in search of its recipient. Eager for news, she travelled back at once, but on attempting to connect to Harry's fire for her final trip, she'd found it in use – Hermione theorised that she had been unfortunate enough to call just as they had been returning from the Ministry. Out of impatience, she'd then tried Ron and Hermione's, empty of course, before finally catching a bewildered Molly Weasley, who seemed unable to understand how she could be arriving straight from Vienna when her granddaughter claimed to have spoken to her at Teddy's house a couple of days before. Bewildered, and a little alarmed at the prospect of an impostor pretending to be her, she'd headed home with impersonators on her mind, only to find a woman wearing her daughter's face in her front room…

Tonks had apologised profusely, both for the shock and the misunderstanding that had followed from her choice of disguise.

"You were the first person who came to mind," she confessed as both Harry and Ron allowed themselves a snigger – clearly they had heard Victoire's tale of the erratic Mrs Tonks she'd met. "I'll explain everything to Victoire as soon as this is all cleared up. And it never occurred to me that my pretending would mean you wouldn't find out what was going on…"

"It doesn't matter now." Andromeda's hands closed over her daughter's and squeezed, smiling in spite of the puffy redness of her post-tears face. "Nothing matters but the fact I have you back and making sure Teddy is safe. I love you both dearly and I'm not willing to accept one in trade for the other, whether he committed the crime or not."

Tonks indulged herself in another brief hug with her mum. "I know how you feel."

"That's the problem, though." Hermione was fingering the notes she'd spread all over the limited space offered by one of the delicate little tables. "What are we going to do now? What can we do to help Teddy and keep you both safe?" She gestured to both Tonks and Remus, who'd settled to her right. "That's the crux of it, really. Do we reveal the truth?"

"Can we?" Ron looked uncertain. "I mean, that'd be it, wouldn't it? That'd prove Teddy really had gone and messed about in the past. He'd be straight to Azkaban."

Remus leant forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "But it would also prove that nothing's _changed_. We're alive but history is unaltered – Teddy made sure of that. Our presence proves that Teddy didn't actually affect history at all."

Hermione was shaking her head. "I don't think Sproule will see it like that – the prosecutor," she added when both Tonks and Remus fixed her with a blank look. "And it still doesn't change what happened to Penny…"

The arguments, idea and words began to flow and bend but Tonks could no longer listen, could not join in and treat her son's predicament as an academic debate on temporal and legal semantics. Instead, she leant back, allowing herself the childish indulgence of resting her head on her mother's shoulder. Mum glanced down at her and her smile was one of joy, of love, of impossible, disbelieving happiness, as though such a glorious happening would not, could not be allowed. And Tonks could not escape at that moment, a single thought; whatever plan was chosen, whatever fate decided, she would find a way to give Teddy back what she was feeling now.

Whatever happened, she would bring her baby home.


	19. The Bigger Picture

**A/N**: In the writing of this chapter, I had a choice - I could either spend three or four chapters fussing around with various necessary conversations between the characters or I could summarise said conversations into one chapter and get to the point, which is the trial. And for probably the first time in my time writing, I opted for the concise version! I hope this chapter doesn't seem too crowded because of it. Many thanks to all who've kindly left reviews, to my beta Snorkackcatcher and my Merry Band of Plot Helpers. :)

_**18: The Bigger Picture**_

"Order! Order!"

The Wizengamot was in session, fifty figures in plum-coloured robes gathered on the stone risers before him. And sitting helplessly in the centre of the vastness that was Courtroom Ten, Teddy Lupin had to admit he had never been so scared in all his life.

His eyes shifted around the room, taking in the stern and solemn face of Kingsley Shacklebolt, presiding, as was his right if he so chose, over the proceedings that day. He could see the thin, rat-like face, narrow beard and spindly moustache of the prosecutor Aloysius Sproule as he shuffled through his notes and glanced to his right with a hint of a smirk on his face. Following his gaze, Teddy found the more reassuring sight of Hermione Weasley and Padma Goldstein, engaged in a low-voiced conversation, although Hermione glanced up and offered a wan smile when she saw him looking. She had been his lifeline over the dreadful last few days – after a lonely and despairing night spent in a Ministry Holding Cell, she and Padma had appeared first thing the following morning. They hadn't been able to speak freely due to Padma's presence and the monitoring spells in his cell, but the look on Hermione's face had told him louder than any words that she knew the entire truth. They had talked through the particulars of the case – Teddy had maintained his personal vow of silence regarding his parents' return but had otherwise been honest - and she had told him that she was working to overturn a ban on Harry being allowed to come and see him. And then, as she'd moved to leave, Hermione had lingered a moment, and with a brief flash, the words _don't worry, they're fine_ had darted across the back of the papers she was holding. And then, with a quick smile, she was gone.

A little of the dark despair that had all but swamped him had lifted after that visit. He had to admit he'd been worrying himself sick over what would become of his parents, of what they'd do now he'd been taken, of what would happen if they were caught. He'd lived half in anticipation and half in fear of some foolish rescue attempt on their part, sometimes imagining that they would all flee abroad to safety together, at others picturing them imprisoned or worse, sent back to die somehow by a Ministry that didn't understand that their return had done no harm at all. But knowing that they'd done the sensible thing, that they'd gone to those who loved them and sought help, made Teddy feel a hundred times better. It meant that whatever became of him, his parents would be kept safe and well. And that was all that mattered now.

He'd been allowed to designate two visitors by the Custody Wizard –he insisted upon Harry being one, in spite of the reputed ban, and for the other he requested his Gran. He had briefly considered Victoire, but he had to admit he had no desire for her to see him like this, and with the cell fully monitored, he was in no position to explain himself to her. Besides, he owed this to his grandmother. And within half an hour of the permission letter being dispatched, Gran was outside his cell door, haranguing the Custody Wizard to open the door a little faster.

He'd held her for a long time, losing himself in the warmth and reassurance of her presence. And as she'd held him tightly in return, she'd whispered in his ear a quiet but heartfelt _thank you_ and added that his _family_ were gathered at her house and waiting for news. They'd talked mildly about meaningless things for a while – he'd asked her about the conference and how she'd found Vienna - but at length she'd drawn him out as she always did, and he'd confessed about how terrible he felt for poor Penny, still unconscious in St Mungo's, and how he'd never meant for anything like that to happen. Gran had promised a visit on his behalf and then agreed to his request to have a word with Victoire. Did he want her to invite Victoire to her house, she had asked pointedly, to _meet his family_? After a deep breath, Teddy had said yes.

And then, with an odd look upon her face, Gran had risen and said that she'd be back to see him again later that day.

The Gran that came that afternoon was his mother.

If it hadn't have been for the presence of the Custody Wizard lingering in the hall outside, Teddy would have been half tempted to bawl her out for taking such an absurd risk with her safety. But he had to admit that this time, her disguise was flawless – she had clearly studied the original extensively – and if she had not turned one eye dark and winked at him with the other, he might not have even realised it was her. And in spite of his fears, seeing her in whatever face was such a profound relief that Teddy found he simply didn't care.

She too had chatted, although her apparently meaningless talk carried a great deal more weight than anyone else listening in could understand. She let him know that she'd finally managed to sort out the _old family potion_ she'd been discussing and it had indeed helped with her _problem_. She had also told him that she had spoken to Victoire and explained about the misunderstanding when they had last crossed paths. Teddy's girlfriend had been a little surprised by this overture, but she understood completely and was willing to forgive. She had asked her to pass along her love and to tell him that she missed him. The relief that had flooded through Teddy at those words had been profound, and, although his heart still ached that he had been unable to explain the misunderstanding himself, he asked her to take his love back to her. "Gran" had smiled and agreed.

And then she had moved on, informing him that _Frederico_ _the decorator_ had done such a fine job at his home that she'd brought him back to look at hers as well, and that he and his assistant were working in his old bedroom. She added that she was keeping this news quiet, since she didn't want him poached, but that Harry, Ginny, Victoire, Hermione and Ron were all aware of his presence. She had added that Frederico himself did not see the need for such secrecy, and believed that he should simply let his presence be known and have done with it, so that others could see how well his work had blended into the existing architecture, but that she, his assistant and the others continued to actively discourage such an action, at least until the work was closer to completion and they had a better idea of the whole colour scheme. A clash, they had pointed out, would be disastrous. Teddy had not missed her meaning.

His dad wanted to tell the truth.

Teddy couldn't blame him. A part of him longed for all to be revealed, for his parents to be able to step forward and take the accolades they deserved rather than skulking in the shadows, but he also knew that such a revelation would be shattering. What would the reaction be to a pair of war heroes back from the dead? Would the Ministry behave with kindness or paranoia? Would they fear the consequences so much they would try to send them back through the Portal? And what would become of him when it was revealed that he truly had interfered with the past? True, it would be better for him than some of the accusations Zenobia Moon had hurled around – the Wizengamot was more likely to go easily on a young man trying to rescue his parents than on someone who had potentially tried to interfere with the outcome of the most pivotal few hours in recent wizarding history – but it was their fate, not his, that mattered now. He had firmly told his mother to stand her ground. Frederico should be kept concealed. Poaching would be a disaster.

She had nodded her agreement, kissed his forehead and taken her leave.

And finally, the next day, after another visit from Hermione and Padma, the ban had been overturned and Harry had arrived.

It had been with a thrill of both dread and joy that Teddy had heard his godfather's voice, heard him dismiss the Custody Wizard with a series of sharp commands, and watched as he carefully cast a web of spells designed to fool the listening and monitoring devices in his cell into believing that nothing more dramatic than the weather was under discussion. And then, he had seated himself in front of Teddy and, emerald eyes firm and unyielding, and asked to hear the entire story from his side.

Teddy had told it. Guiltily, he confessed to the lies he had told his godfather and the deceptive oath he had sworn, and tried to explain how he had thought he was protecting Harry and how his father had made him see better. He even admitted that he had intended to tell Harry himself that day, and would have done if it had not been for his arrest…

To his profound relief, Harry had smiled. His father, it seemed, had told much the same story. And although his godfather had informed him, in a manner that made his insides squirm uncomfortably, that he did not appreciate being lied to in such a way, he did understand and appreciate his motives. And then he had forgiven him.

After all, he had added, the lies had been worth the result. Everyone concerned agreed that, with the possible exception of Remus. And Remus, of course, never considered any action done for his benefit to be worthwhile.

Teddy had leapt upon the given opening and asked about what his mother had so subtly passed on about his father's position on the truth. Harry had frowned, and Teddy had known right away there was trouble.

"It's to do with what Hermione's found out about Sproule's intentions for the prosecution," he had admitted uncomfortably. "She can't say for certain, but from the research he's been doing and the questions he's been asking various witnesses, she reckons he's going to try and claim you were planning to alter the course of the battle in favour of Voldemort." He sighed deeply. "And from the perspective of someone who doesn't know you well enough, it's a reasonable suggestion. Why would someone choose to interfere with such an important event if not to change the outcome? It's all supposition, and Hermione will make sure the Wizengamot know it's nonsense, but the seeds of doubt will be sown. Voldemort's return is a very sensitive subject amongst most members of the Wizengamot – they all lived through it, after all, and the majority are old enough to have been involved the first time too – and if they even suspect that might be the truth, they won't look favourably on what you were doing. And as Remus keeps saying, without bringing the truth into it, it's a difficult argument to refute."

The accusations of Zenobia Moon returned in an instant. They'd seemed absurd at the time, ridiculous, and had been dismissed easily enough in the presence of two people who knew him well enough to understand that. But in front of a room full of strangers, who knew nothing of him but the now indisputable fact that he'd tried to reach into history during a battle that was, to them, all about the bigger picture… That he might want to alter one simple, smaller tragedy might not even occur. They'd believe him out to ruin twenty years of peace, even though every law of time travel would show it couldn't happen.

They'd throw away the key if Sproule's words found their mark.

And Teddy knew it. Without his parents revealed, without the solid absolute proof that he had not intended to invoke pure evil and overturn two decades of peace, he'd be spending the rest of his life in Azkaban.

But still he couldn't let them. The Wizengamot would see their presence as just as much of a danger. His parents had to die or history would not be as it was recorded. They wouldn't understand the true intricacies of temporal mechanics as he did, that nothing had changed, that all was well – they'd try and do something stupid. He was certain.

No. Whatever happened to him, his mum and dad were to be kept safe and out of sight.

And looking Harry straight in the eye, he told him so.

Harry had given him a weak but fond smile, and remarked that he hadn't realised until now just how alike he and his father really were. Remus had already embarked on a campaign to make him swear that whatever became of him, he was to ensure that Teddy was kept safe and well. What was he supposed to do, he'd asked almost plaintively in the general direction of the ceiling, when faced with a pair of Lupins determined to sacrifice themselves for the other?

Teddy had returned the smile and said he should listen to the one he was talking to now.

Harry had sighed deeply, embraced him gently, revoked his spells and left.

All his visitors had returned again in the few days before the trial had been arranged; Hermione and Padma to brief him on what to expect, Gran and "Gran" to comfort him, and Harry to block the monitoring spells that he himself had instituted in the cells five years before, and keep Teddy informed of the true nature of what was happening. And then, the day before the trial had been due to begin, Harry, with Hermione's help, had arranged something that Teddy knew he would never be able to repay. They had wangled permission for a visitor's pass for Victoire.

Harry had accompanied her, ostensibly to watch over them both, but truthfully to fool the spells once more so that the two young lovers could have an honest heart-to-heart. Victoire had been characteristically frank.

"You're an idiot, Teddy," she informed him bluntly. "And I can't believe you didn't trust me with this after I found those notes. Yes, yes, you were protecting me, I know." She raised her hands to forestall his protests as Harry smirked slightly. "But I don't need your protection, Teddy. I love you and I want to share your life. But how can I do that if you can't trust me?"

"I _do_ trust…" Teddy could almost feel his heart tearing as he yearned to try and explain himself but yet again Victoire put an end to his reply.

"I know," she interrupted, her voice now slightly weary. "I do know and that wasn't fair of me to say. And your dad did tell me about the talk you had, and that you were on your way to tell me the truth when you were arrested. Me before Harry even." She smiled, slightly apologetically, at Harry, who shrugged. "I know it's true because Papa told me you'd called round. I just wish I'd been home. Aside from anything else, you wouldn't have been back in time to get arrested." She sighed deeply, reaching forwards to grasp his hand in both of hers as she peered up, flicking her long blonde hair out of her eyes with a jerk of her head. "Your parents are lovely," she admitted with a smile. "They're both so much like you, in their different ways. And knowing you must have been watching them and getting to know them, I can see how you came to do this, in spite of the risk of… well, _this _happening." She gestured to the cell with her eyes. "If it had been Maman and Papa and I'd known there was a way…" She sighed again. "I can't blame you, even if you have got yourself into a hell of a mess. And despite what happened to Penny…"

Her eyes flicked down as Teddy fought back a sickening surge of guilt. "I never knew that anything like that would happen," he whispered almost desperately. "The Weasleys have always been so good to me, and Penny's my mentor and my _friend_ as well as my boss. She got me that apprenticeship when I left Hogwarts. If I'd have known, Mum and Dad or not, I'd have never…"

A squeeze of his hands yet again prevented him completing his sentence. Victoire smiled wanly. "I know," she murmured again. "Oh Teddy, I know."

And then her lips had hovered close to his, and Harry had discretely turned his back for a minute or so, as Teddy and Victoire indulged themselves in the kind of kisses that Teddy had a horrible feeling he would be separated from forever in the not too distant future.

If he was condemned for any longer than a few months, he knew he would have to break up with her. Love of his life or not, Teddy knew it simply wouldn't be fair on her to expect her to wait. And if he went down for life…

That thought had stayed with him all through the night after Victoire and Harry had left. It still lingered when the Security Wizards had come the next morning to take him to trial.

And thus it was that Teddy Lupin now found himself facing Sproule and the Wizengamot, knowing that in order to save his parents, he would probably have to sacrifice his freedom. He could only pray that by some Hermione-induced miracle it didn't come to that.

As the chatter in the courtroom died down in the face of Kingsley's exclamation, Teddy allowed his eyes to wander up into the galleries where witnesses could watch. The trial had been designated restricted, which meant, to Teddy's profound relief, that the press and general public had been banned from coming inside. That hadn't stopped them trying – Hermione had rather pointedly handed a beetle in a jar over to the scribe of the court, and asked that it be returned to the _Daily Prophet_ - although there was absolutely no hurry, she insisted, as long as it stayed out of earshot of proceedings. Molly Weasley, along with Arthur and Bill, had lingered outside the door of the court for a good twenty minutes, and harangued the Security Wizards there so loudly that Teddy could hear it all the way from his cell, pointing out that she was a close friend of the family and that her and her family's exclusion was ridiculous. It had taken Minister Shacklebolt himself, along with Harry and Victoire, to persuade her to wait elsewhere; for although Teddy had no objection to her presence, he had, through Hermione, only been allowed to designate five official visitors as support, and all the places were already filled.

He allowed his eyes to drift up to the high gallery near the door where they were gathered. Harry, his eyes solemn, his jaw clenched, was staring down at Teddy with both sympathy and resolve, although his eyes did flick more often than was natural to the two redheaded figures to his left. On his right sat Gran, deathly pale, her eyes frightened, but with her expression fixed and steady as she clasped the locket that Teddy knew held three locks of hair – his grandfather's, his mother's, and his – within its grasp. Beside her was Victoire, her eyes never leaving him, never wavering – they'd spoken again, all too briefly, five minutes before the trial had begun, holding each other as he whispered more apologies and she more forgiveness over and over again. And finally, on Harry's left, beside the door and holding hands in a manner that Teddy could only hope that no one would notice was not entirely consistent with a brother and sister, were Ginny Potter and Ron Weasley.

Except they weren't, of course. By the power of Metamorphosing and Polyjuice Potion taken from the Auror stores, his parents had come to the trial.

Teddy hadn't been happy when Harry had informed him in whispers of this plan the day before, just as Hermione and Padma approached to request his choices for supporters - but he'd gone along with it anyway, relieved in spite of himself at the thought of having them there. His father met his gaze now, disconcertingly so behind Ron's blue eyes, and smiled wanly with his freckled cheeks as his mum raised Ginny's eyebrows and joined in. He could tell that his dad was already thinking about stepping in, and prayed that Harry would keep his word to his godson rather than swearing an oath to his father's old friend instead.

_Keep them out of it, keep them safe, please Harry, keep them safe_…

Above him, dressed in plum, in the centre of the gathered members of the Wizengamot, Minister for Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt had come to his feet.

"Order!" he repeated, raising his hands as the final few straggling chatterers in the seats around him calmed down. His eyes drifted briefly to Teddy, and the young man caught a glimpse of a complicated cocktail of emotions weaving circles in his eyes – sorrow, nostalgia, disappointment, and resignation all tumbling over one another as he rose to do his duty. Friend of his parents or not, Minister Shacklebolt would assess the evidence and be just and fair in his sentencing. It was what he was renowned for, the reason, along with his common sense and good judgement, that he had stayed Minister so long without dispute, and Teddy knew, in spite of himself, that he would not have it any other way.

Kingsley cleared his throat once and, glancing briefly at the notes held in one hand, launched into formal speech. "On this day, the tenth of July, we are gathered here to investigate the charges against one Teddy Remus Lupin which stand; that on the second of July at approximately forty minutes past eight in the evening he did willingly and knowingly attempt to pervert the course of history, specifically the events of the Battle of Hogwarts, and that in doing so, sabotaged an invaluable magical Portal in such a manner that it resulted in the serious injury of Penelope Anne Weasley, Head of the Time Division of the Department of Mysteries. The Prosecutor is Aloysius Suetonius Sproule. The Defenders are Hermione Jean Weasley and Padma Mehadi Goldstein. Questions on behalf of the Wizengamot will be posed by myself, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Minister for Magic, and by Matilda Ariadne Breakspear, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. The Senior Undersecretary, Percy Ignatius Weasley, has been excused on compassionate grounds. The Court Scribe is Terence Lancelot Boot. Witnesses to be called are Rajesh Chaudhry, Edgar Florian Fortescue, Albert Ethelred Croaker, Dennis Nigel Creevey, Rose Delilah Zeller, Lucy Madeline Brightwell, Zenobia Lilith Moon, Elijah Meriadoc Whistler, and Petroc Constantine Mercer. Does either legal representative have any further witnesses to add at this time?"

Sproule rose crisply to his feet. "Not at this time, Minister."

Padma also stood, since Hermione was apparently lost in reading over something in her notes. "None, Minister, thank you."

Kingsley's gaze turned abruptly onto Teddy. "You are Teddy Remus Lupin of Winter Hollow, Ceredigion, Wales?"

Teddy nodded slowly, trying to calm his breathing enough to voice the words from between his bone dry lips. He met the Minister's gaze, aware of how Kingsley Shacklebolt's ever-steady voice had cracked slightly over his middle name and surname, and wondered just what he would say if he knew his two old friends were hidden behind red hair at the top of his courtroom.

"I am," he stated softly.

Kingsley nodded quietly in return. "Then let the trial commence," he said.


	20. A Necessary Sacrifice

**A/N:** Many, many thanks must go to my beta **Snorkackcatcher **regarding this chapter and the next - without his help, I'd never have got my own temporal theories straight! - and of course to my Merry Band for their ever-present underlying contribution. Thanks also to everyone who's been kind enough to review and, in answer to a couple of your observations: regarding Teddy's apparent lack of support from his friends, Teddy's best friend is Victoire and hence has had a hug from her :), his friends from work aren't allowed to speak to him and his old school mates can't be told because the trial is closed and confidential. And I didn't think of them...;) The acronym of Aloysius Suetonius Sproule was accidental but extremely fitting! And as for how long to go, my current chapter guesstimate is in the region of 25 so yes, we are in the latter stages. :) And now, on with the fic...

_**19: A Necessary Sacrifice**_

There was no doubt in Remus Lupin's mind, no question or debate. If the opportunity ever arose, he was going to hex Aloysius Sproule within an inch of his miserable little life.

"How did you plan to give Voldemort victory, Mr Lupin? Was your intention to remove your godfather by _whatever means_ until the critical moment had passed?"

"_No_! Of course not! I _wouldn't_…"

"Objection! This is pure _fantasy, _Minister! There's no evidence to support this, nor to even _suggest_ any such…"

"Objection sustained. Mr Sproule, please limit your remarks to the facts…"

"Perhaps your intention was to warn Lord Voldemort of his impending defeat, to let him escape and see the war drag on? Or maybe you intended to preserve the snake Nagini so that his defeat would be impossible?"

"_Mr Sproule_…"

"No! That's impossible anyway! You heard Bert on the witness stand - history can't be anything but what you remember! Our research into Time-Turning incidents has shown in every case so far that any changes you make will only result in making things as the history books say because it's already implied by the future you come from! Even if I wanted to…"

"Aha! So you admit it was your _desire_ to…"

"_Objection_!"

"Minister, _please, _this is_ outrageous_!"

"Mr Sproule, you have been asked to restrain yourself! If you do not desist…"

"Minister, the accused has just confessed his desire to see Lord Voldemort reborn! I insist that this critical line of questioning should be…_Ack_!"

Quietly Kingsley sheathed his wand in his plum coloured robes, staring down at the red-faced prosecutor who was glaring up with undisguised resentment at the man who had just conjured the small explosive burst that had startled him into silence. Both Hermione and Padma, who had been on their feet and sharing the duty of shouting down his malicious tirade, exchanged a look that was half relief and half smirk as they dropped back into their seats.

"Mr Sproule." Kingsley had changed so little in twenty years that it was hard to believe he had not been pulled straight out of the battle alongside them – Remus fought not to smile at the so familiar tone of the deep and calming voice, and his firm expression of pure authority. Remus had never imagined his friend as ever being Minister for Magic material in the days of the Order, but seeing him as such now it was hard to imagine him as anything _else_.

"You were warned, Mr Sproule." Although Kingsley's tone was restrained, Remus knew him well enough to hear the carefully held back hints of utter dislike, as he gazed down at the unpleasant little man who had, moments before, been stalking around Teddy like a hunting spider. "The objection raised by both Madam Weasley and Madam Goldstein was sustained. Unless you have evidence to support this line of questioning, you will refrain from haranguing the accused about it. Understood?"

For a moment, Remus wondered if the prosecutor was prepared to do anything more than glare belligerently. But then, as though it was causing him physical pain, he nodded.

"Minister." There was something vaguely repulsive about the fake wave of subservience that settled itself over Sproule's features. "I am merely attempting to safeguard the wizarding world against the possible return of so evil a force." Even from the gallery, Remus heard Hermione's snort of disdain. "Surely Mr Lupin's motives in reaching into that particular moment in the past are of the utmost significance in this case. His actions are beyond dispute. Now what must be established are his intentions and the danger he poses to the wizarding world." Clearing his throat slightly, his eyes drifted to the corner of the seated Wizengamot where the older, crustier members seemed to have gathered. "After all, Mr Lupin's genetic heritage as the son of a werewolf and a metamorphmagus has never previously been documented. There is no telling what effect such a combination of volatile blood could have upon the stability of the offspring's mental state…"

"OBJECTION!"

Remus saw Hermione rocket to her feet, her face red, saw Harry's fists clench and Kingsley's jaw harden, but in that instant, taking the only action he could to prevent himself from leaping to his feet and ripping the little bastard to shreds, he flung his arm out in an attempt to hold back the inevitable fury of his wife.

His limb collided sharply with hers. It seemed Dora's preferred method of keeping herself calm had been to try to restrain _him_.

He glanced over at her, finding his wife's dark eyes staring at him from out of Ginny's face. They burned with vivid fury.

"If I ever get that slimy little git alone…" she whispered fiercely, grasping his hand almost viciously, as though to keep herself anchored down by it.

Remus returned her hold, echoing the need to anchor himself. "Save me a piece."

"Save us all one." Remus had never heard Harry's voice sound so cold. "I want him _out_. I know Kingsley's wanted rid of him since he defended Umbridge at her trial, but unfortunately you can't fire someone just for being an utter _bastard_."

"_Sustained_." There was an unmistakable hint of venom in Kingsley's voice now. "Mr Sproule, I happen to know for a fact that Mr Lupin was tested extensively at St Mungo's as a child to establish once and for all that there is no hint of lycanthropy in his make-up. And being a metamorphmagus, while unusual, has no effect upon a person's mental state whatsoever. I can refer you to extensive reading material on the subject if you aren't willing to take my word for it." Remus glanced at his wife, knowing that Kingsley had been the one who had helped Mad-Eye in his investigation of her suitability for Auror training. Being certain a new recruit's odd physiology wouldn't affect her mental stability would have been a significant topic of research.

But Kingsley had continued and his gaze was glacial. "Mr Sproule, you have tried my patience today. You have flung accusations around with no facts to back them up, and made wild statements about the parentage of the accused that have no relevance to this case. Your personal prejudices have no place in this courtroom, and I have no wish to hear any more about them. You will prosecute this case fairly and by the law or I will have you removed and replaced. Is that clear?"

"Of course." There was something unpleasantly oily about Sproule's reply. "But Minister, by those criteria, should we not remark upon your – _ahem_ - _personal prejudice _in favour of the accused?"

Kingsley's face darkened noticeably; Remus knew from experience that actually being able to _see_ that Kingsley was angry was never a good sign. "_What_ did you say?" he drawled coldly.

There was a hint of a smirk forming on Sproule's face that made Remus' fingers itch to slap it away. "Only that it is well known that you were a close friend of Mr Lupin's parents, Minister, and I cannot help but wonder if your desire to stymie any kind of questioning of which you do not approve might be considered…a little _biased_?"

Remus could see Kingsley's fists clench within his robes, his expression hewn from ice.

"Very well, Mr Sproule," he replied with painful pleasantness, dropping back into his seat. "If you are so concerned then…Madam Breakspear? Perhaps you would care to take over?"

"Gladly." Matilda Breakspear was not a tall woman and her tightly curled honey-blonde and grey-peppered hair and round face made her appear affable rather than alarming, but nonetheless one glance from her as she came to her feet was enough to make Sproule blanch in a most satisfying manner. "Mr Sproule, as someone who is unacquainted with the accused and unconnected with either his family or his parents, I would like to second the Minister. If you have facts to back your accusations, get them in order and present them as such. But without evidence, you will kindly restrict your remarks to what we know. The hurling of wild, unsupported accusations in court went out with your old friend Madam Umbridge, and I have no intention of allowing it back again."

"But Madam Breakspear." The crawling expression on Sproule's face made Remus want to vomit. "The matter of the intentions of the accused is _crucial_. And since he did not choose to confide them to anyone, surely questioning him is the only means by which to discover just what he intended…"

"And perhaps we would have, Mr Sproule, if you'd allowed the accused to get a word in edgeways." Madam Breakspear sighed. "This case is a tangled web indeed." Her words seemed to be addressed to the Wizengamot at large. "As the expert testimony of Mr Chaudhry and Mr Croaker showed, the fact that the Portal was damaged by a temporal incursion is indisputable. It is also most unlikely that such damage could be accidental, and Mr Lupin was the only person present when the incursion occurred. Mr Sproule, you are correct. Intention is crucial."

She adjusted her robes as her gaze swept across the court. "But since Mr Lupin has refused to explain himself, beyond a denial that his intention was to alter history, what can we say? The testimony of Mr Croaker and Miss Zeller has made it clear that in the view of the Time Division staff, our foremost experts on matters of time travel, history can only be made into what we remember and any changes made by time travellers can only result in the outcome that is known. Mr Lupin himself has expressed his faith in this opinion."

She glanced down at Teddy, who was watching her silently from his position seated in the courtroom's centre. "Which makes any claims that he was trying to alter it seem futile since he himself has said it cannot be done." She sighed again deeply. "But can we say the research done over the last twenty years by the Time Division into matters of Time-Turning is absolute and indisputable? Not with certainty since their very motto, a claim that they do not interfere with history, disputes it. Can we be certain that the Unspeakable testimony we have heard is not intended to protect one of their own? Or indeed, can we say they are not trying to protect the Portal on which their work depends, since they must know its destruction is inevitable if it is found that dangerous changes to time can be made with it? No, not indisputably. And even if this is indeed all down to Mr Lupin himself…" She sighed. "Can we say for sure that Mr Lupin does not know of some loophole to change time discovered in the course of his work? We cannot. Can we say what Mr Lupin might have intended if that was the case? Not without his testimony. He could have believed himself putting something right, acting to make sure that history played out as it is remembered, as Miss Zeller speculated when she took the stand, but that being the case, why would Mr Lupin not just say so? We cannot question him under Veritaserum since his status as a metamorphmagus would enable him to close his throat to the potion without our knowledge, and thus we could not be sure his honesty under the influence could be trusted. And since he will not tell us his motives and his defence will offer none-" her pointed glance took in Hermione and Padma as well as Teddy "-we are left with nothing but Mr Sproule's fervent accusations to ponder upon. Perhaps, Mr Lupin, you and your defence team would do well to consider that fact. Your silence on this matter does you no favours and only adds to the impression that your motives, whatever they were, were not ones of which the Ministry would approve." She raised her chin. "I'm calling for a break, to let the dust settle a little and allow both legal teams to consider their positions. We will reconvene in half an hour's time and resume with the witness testimony of Mr Dennis Creevey. Court adjourned."

Remus could feel his heart pounding against his ribs as he stared blankly down at the plum-coloured figures dispersing, at Sproule's cold smile and Hermione and Padma's worried expressions, as they gathered their things and hurried after the two Security Wizards escorting Teddy back to the holding cell. Madam Breakspear's words were echoing through his mind – Hermione had told him that Matilda Breakspear was firm but fair, always spoke her mind,, and was frank and straightforward in her opinions and her statement, to judge by the nods and mutters of her fellow Wizengamot members, had reflected their opinions precisely. And that being the case, Teddy was in a lot of trouble.

Unless he told the truth and admitted what he'd done. Which of course, he was never going to do.

Remus sighed deeply. Whatever happened now, this trial was not going to end well. That Teddy would be punished for his actions was inevitable now. But the severity of that punishment hung tentatively in the balance, depending entirely on what the Wizengamot took his motives to be. And while he maintained his silence…

Teddy would not be persuaded to admit the truth – his conversations with Harry following his meetings with his godson had convinced him of that. Perhaps Teddy could have admitted he'd tried to save his parents and failed, as Hermione had originally suggested in their debates at Andromeda's house, but where would that leave them when the truth came out, as it inevitably would have to? They had discussed and dismissed the options for hiding themselves away, and while Remus knew that Tonks possessed the ability to remain incognito for the rest of her life, he would never be so fortunate. A lifetime of Polyjuice or constant transfiguration was too complicated. His lycanthropy made remaining inconspicuous even more unlikely. And any involvement in Teddy's life, in the life of his friends, would be almost impossible.

The future that Teddy had risked so much to give him was simply never going to happen. Not here. Not in the real world.

Which left Remus only one reasonable choice.

Come forward. Reveal the truth. Let them do with him what they chose. But then at least they'd know that Teddy's motives and silence were not concealing anything sinister. A young man who'd never known his father had acted on impulse to save him. The punishment for that would surely not be so severe. And he would still have Dora, for there was no reason to mention that he had pulled both his parents from the past. She at least would have the future she deserved.

She would probably beat the hell out of him when he found out. But he'd find a way to keep her from exposing herself as well. He'd find a way to make her understand that his sacrifice was necessary for the sake of their son, but that she could go on and stay at Teddy's side…

Flashes of a fierce expression on a heart-shaped face crowned by limp brown hair as hands grasped his robes and shook like fury thrust their way into his mind. A _noble prat,_ she'd called him afterwards, a self-flagellating idiot with a _martyr complex_. Assuming she would understand was, he suspected, a tad optimistic.

He needed her out of the way. He needed to make sure that she didn't get involved, that she could be kept out of things until it was too late to turn back. And for that, he would need help.

His first choice was Andromeda, for who better than Dora's mother to keep her safe and out of harm's way? She loved Dora, loved Teddy too, and would understand that his sacrifice was necessary to keep them safe. She liked him, he knew, and had come a long way since her initial distrust at the time of the wedding – indeed, once the dramatic events of her meeting with her daughter had calmed, she had surprised him with a hug and told him how glad she was to have _both_ of them back in her life. Yes, she would be glad to help.

Except… Once more, Remus found his mind flicking back into the past, picturing his wife's anger at her mother's less than welcoming attitude to her new son-in-law. Dora loved her mother dearly, but her attitude towards him and his safety was fervent to the point of scariness sometimes, and if she knew that her mum had been involved in concealing his intentions from her, she would probably never forgive her.

No. No, he couldn't let that happen. Dora would need her mum too much. Even though she had now taken the Black family anti-lactating potion to end her body's insistence that there had to be a baby around there somewhere, she was still fairly fragile at heart.

Victoire was too much of a stranger. Hermione would probably still say no, in spite of Madam Breakspear's words. Ron wouldn't want to take sides. Ginny would hit him, call him a pillock, and then tell Tonks for good measure.

And Harry…

He didn't know about Harry. His son's godfather had already protested slightly at the way in which he and Teddy were pulling him in two directions, trying to persuade him to protect one at the expense of the other. Thus far, Remus knew, Teddy had been the nominal victor in this tug-of-war of commitment, mostly on the grounds of convenience.

But one glance was enough to see how worried Harry was about his godson after Madam Breakspear's speech. And nobody understood the nature of necessary sacrifice better than Harry Potter.

Harry then. It was his only chance. He wanted desperately to save his son, but he _had _to be certain he would not be sacrificing his wife as well in order to do it.

At least one member of their little family was going to get out of this unscathed. Remus was determined it would be his Dora.

Their party was on the move now, Dora-as-Ginny squeezing his hand one last time before she moved to join her mother and Victoire as they left the courtroom. Harry smiled as he pulled himself to his feet and tapped a small glass vial tucked into his robes.

"Come on, mate," he said softly. "You look like you need a _drink_."

One glance at his arms told Remus that Ron's freckles were indeed starting to fade. Hurriedly pulling up the hood of his cloak, he rose to his feet and quickly followed Harry out of the room. They skirted past Molly, Arthur and Bill, who had cornered Andromeda, Victoire and Dora-in-disguise for a report on how the trial was going, and hastily stepped into the lift. As Level Nine dropped out of sight below, Harry issued a sharp command and shook his wand, halting the lift abruptly between floors.

"Best place for a private drink," he told Remus with a smile, as he waved his wand to cast soundproofing spells around the little golden box in which they were now concealed. "And no one will think any the wiser of it for a few minutes at least– these lifts break down all the time since old Reg Cattermole from Magical Maintenance retired. No one else seems to know how to keep them running smoothly. Here." He handed over the sludge-like burnt orange-coloured vial of liquid. "Essence of Ron. Hair not toenails, I promise. I wouldn't force my worst enemy to drink Ron Weasley's toenail clippings."

Remus took the vial and stared down at it. He couldn't drink it. He daren't. If he did, it would be another hour before he could reasonably reveal himself, and he couldn't risk incriminating Ron in the process. Who knew when the next recess would be called, when he'd next have a chance to step into the court as himself?

"In a minute," he said quietly. "There's something I need to discuss with you first."

"Drink, then talk." Harry's tome was firm. "If by some miracle, this lift does get reported and fixed in the near future, we can't have you popping up into the Atrium looking like yourself. You taught at Hogwarts for a year, Remus. Too many people who work in this building would know you by sight and then we'd be in trouble…"

"But that's the point, isn't it?" Remus could feel an almost desperate wave of anxiety rising in his chest. "Teddy's already in trouble. You heard what Madam Breakspear said. Unless we can prove that he wasn't trying to alter history somehow…"

Harry's expression was abruptly grim. "No."

"Harry…"

"Remus, we've been through this." Harry cut his old teacher off with a wave of his hand. "If you go forward…"

"Then it will show that Teddy had no intention of changing anything; he simply altered the present by bringing us here instead." It was so obvious, and Remus couldn't understand why everyone had been so determined to fight him on this matter. "We can explain the precautions he took to ensure everything in history was as it should be, how careful he was, how he considered all the factors before he acted. We can prove he had no malicious intent. He'll get a slap on the wrist for damaging the Portal, and probably a month or two in Azkaban for causing Penny's accident, but they can't blame him for trying to destroy the wizarding world - which is where this looks like going!"

"And what about you?" Harry's riposte was equally fervent. "Remus, we haven't a clue how the Wizengamot will react to this. They may consider your presence here a risk to the stability of the past. You heard Rajesh Chaudhry in the stand - the Portal's still broken, the field's still ripped, and as long as that hole remains, they might still be able to find a way to _send you back _to_ die _if they chose to. They could decide the best thing for everyone is to shove you right back into the path of that Killing Curse! We can't take the _risk_!"

"And so we risk Teddy's future instead? No, I can't do that." Remus turned away, but the limited space of the lift did not give him room to pace as his body apparently wished to. "Do you think I want to live this life, Harry, if this is how it's going to be? Do you think I want to spend the rest of my life hiding and pretending to be someone else while my son languishes in prison? That's not a price I'm willing to pay." He swallowed hard before turning to face his old friend's son once more. "I'd rather die in that battle, die where I was _supposed_ to, than sacrifice my son's freedom in the name of _half a life_."

"And what about _Tonks_?" Harry thrust her name forward like a winning snap card. "Are you willing to get her killed as well? I know she'd probably be willing to do it, but do you really _want _her to? Are you prepared to sacrifice your _wife_?"

"No." Remus answered the question, calm, cool and clear. "And that's why I wanted to speak to you. I need you to keep her out of this."

"What?" There was an air of grim and weary resignation to Harry's reply.

"Keep her out of it," Remus replied, meeting Harry's eyes and locking his gaze. "Take her to one side, lock her in your office or at Grimmauld Place, but do _something_ to keep her out of that courtroom when I show myself. Make sure she stays out of sight and stop her from doing anything foolish like trying to join me."

Harry raised an eyebrow and snorted incredulously. "So it's foolish for her but not for you?"

_Why is he making this so ruddy difficult? _"It's _different_ for her. She can have a life here, wear a different face without effort, be another person without the risk of being dragged down and identified with a badly transfigured, unemployable husband who has to find a new place to transform every full moon! She can _have _a future."

"And you can't?"

"Not reasonably, no."

Harry was slowly shaking his head. "Are you ever going to get over this urge to _martyr_ yourself, Remus?" he declared abruptly, eyes cool and features stern. "As long as I've know you, you've been hurling yourself on the pyre in the name of protecting others who don't _need_ to be protected. You jumped out of Hogwarts rather than be pushed without knowing a push was coming, because you thought you were endangering the students – it was your choice, you could have beaten that curse if you'd had the nerve. You were a brilliant teacher, Remus, and maybe you'd like to think on how much better some of those kids might have been at protecting _themselves_ if you'd stayed. You tried to abandon Tonks _twice_ because you reckoned it was for her own good – which it _wasn't_, since you made her miserable, ruined her ability to morph, and all but told me you were going to leave her to raise Teddy all on her own. And now you want to chuck your life away so that the nasty man stops shouting at your son?"

Remus fought down a surge of discomfort as Harry's words struck uncomfortably home. "I'm trying to give him a _future_."

"He's _got _one." Harry sighed deeply, brushing his hair back off his forehead. "Nobody can prove a damned thing either way. His sentence may be bumped up rather more than it would have been, but they can't convict him on the basis of Sproule's guesswork. But if you go forward, they'll _know_ he's done something wrong. And no, it won't be as bad as they thought, but it's still _proof_, Remus! _You're_ proof! If you go forward now, it'll only make things _worse_ and I'm not going to let you do that!"

For a moment they only stared at each other, two men bound by history and separated by avid conviction that they were in the right. Remus found himself flashing back to that time in the dingy kitchen at Grimmauld Place, the time when Harry had shouted down his arguments and made him see sense. And that time, he'd been right.

But not this time. Remus was sure of it.

But one look into Harry's determined emerald eyes told Remus that the saviour of the wizarding world was not going to back down.

And neither was he. But he could do nothing while deadlocked in verbal warfare in a lift.

Time for a tactical retreat.

He forced himself to sigh deeply. "I suppose that's a point."

The relief that flashed in Harry's eyes made Remus feel ashamed of his deception, but he couldn't back out of this now.

"Exactly," the Auror said, rather more calmly. "Remus, please. Just hold your fire. If it looks like things are going to go as badly as they can get, it might be worth reconsidering. But don't jump before you're pushed thistime, okay? Teddy would never forgive me. And Tonks would have my guts."

Remus fought down a surge of guilt. But no, he'd make it clear that Harry had done all he could to prevent this. Teddy and Tonks would understand that much, at least.

"Okay," he conceded. "No jumping."

"Good." Harry smiled. He glanced at his watch. "Court'll be back in session soon. I'll get this bucket of bolts headed back down. And for Merlin's sake, drink that Polyjuice!"

In the shadow of his hooded cloak, Remus was still fingering the vial and trying to work out exactly how he could surreptitiously dispose of it and get Tonks to stay out of the courtroom without help, when the lift dropped back into corridor that fortuitously, was deserted but for Tonks-as-Ginny talking quietly with Victoire and Andromeda. Dora met his eyes with her own dark gaze and wanly smiled.

Inspiration struck.

"Harry," he breathed softly. "Could you do me a favour before we go back?"

Harry's expression was one of understandable suspicion. "Like what?"

"Tonks." Remus leaned in close, making sure that Harry could see the concern on his face. "I think this business is upsetting her more than she's letting on. Her morph is slipping. Look, see? She's already reverted to her own eyes and her hair doesn't look as red as it did."

It was true. Although Remus was sure that nobody but someone close to Ginny would have ever noticed, and that his wife would probably push the morph back to full strength the moment she was in mixed company, it was too good an opportunity to miss.

Harry's frown was enough to show he too had noted the discrepancies. "Uh oh," he muttered. "It's passable but if Kingsley noticed…"

"Exactly." Remus fought back a flood of guilt at the deceit. "I'd take her aside myself, but I don't know Ginny's looks anything like as well as you do. Maybe you could take her up to your office and show her some photographs so she can correct the mistakes…"

There was instant suspicion in Harry's expression. "And wouldn't that be convenient for you? Don't think I haven't noticed you haven't drunk your Polyjuice yet."

"I'm worried about my wife." That was very much the truth. "Harry, please."

"Promise me." There was an intense, probing look in Harry's eyes. "Promise me that if I take her upstairs, you're not going to walk into that court and do something _stupid_."

Remus nodded quietly, almost serenely. "I promise," he replied simply.

_After all_, he added mentally, _how can it be stupid if it's the right thing to do?_

Harry was a wonderful Auror and a good man. But he was absolutely dreadful at choosing the right oath.

And as Harry approached Tonks to broach the subject, leaving Victoire and Andromeda to drift in the direction of the court, opportunity number two came Remus' way. As Harry turned his back, Remus hurriedly emptied the Polyjuice Potion into a conveniently placed pot plant. Ignoring the way its leaves curled and steamed, wilting and blackening at the contact, he drew his wand and with a tap, had filled the vial with identically coloured but entirely harmless sludge.

Harry and Tonks approached him. After checking both ways for any sign of company, Tonks leaned forward and, disconcertingly for both Harry and Remus, pressed her approximation of Ginny's lips to his.

"I'm nipping upstairs with Harry," she told him quietly. "I want to check my morph. Be good while I'm gone, okay?"

Remus forced himself to smile, trying not to think about the upset and the fury that would crease her features when she discovered what he had done. "Angelic," he replied.

She laughed softly. "Drink your potion, Remus."

He obeyed, feigning disgust as the vaguely barley sugar-flavoured replacement sludge trickled down his throat. Turning his back, he forced himself to grimace as though in pain and hold his stomach in mock nausea.

"Let's leave him to change," Harry's voice drifted out from the lift. "Sit tight, Remus. It'll be okay."

He did not dare look up to watch as they lifted out of sight, trying not to consider what they might say or do if he was even allowed to see them again.

Harry would keep Dora safe. He would be furious with Remus for going against him, but he'd make sure that his wife wasn't thrown into the pit as well.

But he had to do this. For Teddy, he had to do it.

Beside the lift, another door was opening. Remus caught a glimpse of plum robes and heard voices muttering.

The Wizengamot were coming back into session.

Pulling his hood more firmly over his face, Remus hurried down the corridor, flashed his visitor pass to the frankly inattentive Security Wizard, and dropped into his seat in the gallery.

The scene before him seemed to drift into a strange kind of unreality. He could see Victoire and Andromeda talking quietly away to his right, as he watched the figures in plum robes swarm back in to take their seats, watched Sproule fiddle with his quill as he dropped twitchily back into his place, saw Kingsley and Madam Breakspear discussing something discreetly as they took their position at front and centre of the crowd. He saw Hermione and Padma, their faces full of anxiety as they re-entered the room, and then he saw Teddy, firmly escorted by two burly Security Wizards, as he dropped back into his seat.

He looked resigned. And he looked terrified.

_I can't let them do this to him. No more. I haven't been a father to him for the last twenty years and I'll be damned if I don't start now_.

"Order!" It was Madam Breakspear who called the court to silence on this occasion, although Kingsley was standing at her side when she rose. "Mr Creevey is next to the stand." She gestured to the short wizard standing by the door, and Remus recognised him as one of the two who had come with Zenobia Moon to take Teddy away. "Does either legal team have anything to add before he is called?"

He could see both Padma and Sproule rising to defer, but nothing seemed to matter now, nothing but the frightened face of his son and his desperate desire to make things right. Harry had been right. Sometimes people didn't need protecting. And he couldn't let Teddy protect him any longer.

He felt himself rise to his feet, felt himself go forwards and move downwards, step by step by step, still lost in the concealment of his cloak. He heard Andromeda's hiss of horror, Victoire's disbelieving gasp, saw Hermione's head turn and her eyes widen with shock. He saw Teddy's gaze fix upon him and the blood drain from his cheeks.

He ignored them all.

"I have something to submit to the court."

The words echoed profoundly in the silence that followed Sproule and Padma's deferrals. The heads of the Wizengamot turned as one.

Madam Breakspear gave him a long, wary look. He could see Kingsley beside her, frowning, squinting as though to see deep into the shadows of his hood, trying to place the voice he surely must have recognised as familiar.

"This is highly improper." Madam Breakspear was the first to recover herself. "This is a closed proceeding and if you have something to submit, it should go through the designated legal representatives…"

"I'll deal with it!" Hermione's voice was unnaturally high-pitched as she rocketed to her feet. "Madam Breakspear, if we could just extend the recess…"

He couldn't let this get bogged down. It was now or never.

"I know why Teddy Lupin is refusing to explain his actions."

"Madam Breakspear, please, I just need a minute to speak to this gentleman. I have dealt with him before…"

_Oh Hermione, you shouldn't have said that_…

"_Don't_." The soft, almost inaudible mutter came from Teddy. He was staring at his father's cloaked form as though the entire world was about to tumble down around him. "_Please_."

For a moment, he faced his son, willing him to understand. "I'm sorry, Teddy," he replied, his voice low but carrying powerfully. "But I have to. I can't let this go on."

"_No_!" Teddy was on his feet now, his expression twisted with desperation as he tried to rush forwards, but the Security Wizards caught his arms and shoved him with unnecessary roughness back into his chair, blocking his second attempt to rise with their wands. Remus felt his son's eyes burning into him, pleading as he heard his voice call out once more.

"_No_! No, please, don't do this! You don't know what'll happen! _Please_!"

"Let _what _go on?" Madam Breakspear's voice carried more than a hint of irritation. "_What_ is going on here?"

Hermione's head was whipping back and forth between Remus and her boss, as though unable to decide whether to keep appealing, or just to rush and shut her former teacher up. Remus kept his eyes fixed upon Kingsley, choosing to stick with the one person he knew would recognise and understand what he was about to see.

"Teddy has been trying to protect someone," he said softly, his hands drifting to the folds of his hood. He allowed himself one final breath, one final moment before stepping into the abyss, one final chance to back down. But his son's desperate pleas, far from deflecting him, only drove him forwards.

Gently, quietly, he pushed the hood back, meeting Kingsley's gaze and watching as the Minister for Magic's jaw dropped in complete and utter astonishment, his expression almost stupefied, his eyes stunned.

Remus smiled softly. "And as I'm sure you've worked out, Kingsley," he finished calmly. "The person he was protecting was _me_."


	21. Preservation

**A/N:** Again thanks must go to my beta Snorkackcatcher for keeping me on the temporal straight and narrow as much as possible and to my merry band of helpers for their ever-underlying contribution. Thanks also to everyone who kindly reviewed. Oh and the first meeting scene referenced here between Remus and Tonks is actually taken from a one shot I wrote for the metamorficmoon challenge called Standing Their Ground. It can be found in the collection of stories called A Million Times on my profile if anyone's interested. :)

_**20: Preservation**_

"Remus."

The name slipped over Kingsley Shacklebolt's lips as though fleeing from the disbelieving confusion of his mind. Remus straightened unconsciously, holding his old friend's gaze deliberately as he allowed the ex-Auror to drink in what he was seeing, to comprehend the truth that his eyes beheld. He caught a glimpse of Hermione dropping back into her seat with a vaguely resigned thud, and the eyes of his former students Padma Pat…_Goldstein _and Terry Boot locked in astonishment upon him. And he saw Teddy groan as he covered his face with his hands and slumped silent and unresisting back in his seat.

There was recognition in some quarters of the Wizengamot too, though it was anything but universal as low muttering broke out amongst the plum-clothed officials. The short man by the witness stand was regarding him with an unreadable gaze, and Aloysius Sproule pounced upon his notes and riffled through them frantically until he laid hands upon what looked like a photograph, his head whipping rapidly back and forth between Remus and his find. Matilda Breakspear, who, he now recalled, had been Head Girl in his second year at Hogwarts under her maiden name of Braithwaite, clearly did not understand – her eyes were darting back and forth between himself and the Minster for Magic with obvious confusion written within.

"Minister?" she said slowly, her face filled with consternation. "Who…?"

"I saw your body." Kingsley's voice, unnaturally, almost painfully level, cut away the rest of her sentence. "I helped carry your coffin at the funeral. I watched them close it up and _bury you_."

Remus held his gaze, keeping his voice soft. "That wasn't me."

There was turmoil behind Kingsley's eyes now, conflicted hope battering against almost violent scepticism. "It's been _twenty years_. Yet you haven't aged a _day_."

Remus risked a slight smile, trying to ignore the sudden pounding of his heartbeat in his ears. "I can explain that, if you'll let me. Though I suspect it's fairly obvious why, if you think about the reason for this trial."

Kingsley's eyes darted briefly towards Teddy, who was hunched, almost shaking, in his chair, still flanked by the stern-looking Security Wizards. The glance seemed to jar him back into order; the Minister's eyes hardened abruptly as he straightened his robes and squared his shoulders.

"So," he said firmly, his voice strong and clear. "You stand before this court claiming to be Remus John Lupin, father of Teddy Lupin and officially recorded as a victim of Antonin Dolohov at the Battle of Hogwarts twenty years ago. Am I correct?"

Gasps rose from those members of the Wizengamot not previously aware of his identity – Matilda Breakspear's eyes widened to saucers as they followed Kingsley's example and darted sharply in Teddy's direction. It seemed that someone in the room, at least, had realised the implications of his appearance before them.

Remus simply nodded. "You are."

Kingsley's gaze was both solemn and desperate, with a hint of apology running around the edges. "You understand I need proof of this."

Remus allowed himself a more obvious smile. "Then ask."

Kingsley's jaw hardened. "Just before the fight in the Department of Mysteries, you took me to one side. Why?"

Remus cast his mind back to that awful day, as they had waited in the Grimmauld Place kitchen for word from Severus as to Harry's fate. With a jolt, he realised what a well-chosen question it was – until a few moments before, as far as Kingsley was concerned, he had been the only remaining living member of that ill-fated rescue mission.

"I pointed out that we both knew that whatever we said, there was no way on this earth that Sirius would agree to stay behind if Harry turned out to be in danger," he said softly, recalling now what his concerns had been and the words he had spoken in a brief, whispered conference with Kingsley near the pantry. "That would risk his freedom and, considering that you were supposed to be hunting for him, it might also wreck your cover with the Order and your career if you were seen fighting together. I was just proposing that we attempt to disguise Sirius in case of the worst, when Severus called and there was no time to do anything but Apparate to the Ministry."

As he had seen with Ginny, with Harry and Ron, Hermione and Andromeda, hope began to outweigh the doubt in Kingsley's eyes. He must know now that there was no way short of Legilimency that anyone could…

"Drop your eyes." Had Kingsley read his mind? His gaze had certainly been intense enough but whether his friend was using magic or it was simply a case of great minds thinking alike, Remus offered no query and obeyed the command, fixing his eyes upon the stone step beneath his feet.

"Now," Kingsley's voice echoed throughout the room. "Aside from _good luck_, what were the last words we exchanged before the Battle of Hogwarts began?"

Remus swallowed hard. Oh Gods… "I said that if my wife showed up, make sure to send her home again at once. And you…" He forced himself to hesitate, to gulp in air, to tense his shoulders. _She's dead to me, she's dead, they mustn't know she isn't dead, I have to seem upset_… "You said knowing her, the odds were good that she would, but you promised me if you saw her, you'd kick her backside until she went back to the baby."

He glanced up just as Kingsley closed his eyes in apparent pain. _Oh Kingsley, I'm sorry, but you can't know that truth_… He glanced over at Teddy, who was watching him now with a sudden intensity, and at Hermione whose stare was both angry and understanding.

_Don't give her away_, he willed them silently and silently, if reluctantly, he felt them both agree. Whatever became of him, Dora had to be safe. She _had to be_.

When he glanced back, Kingsley was staring at him. His chest was heaving, and his eyes…

_He wants it to be true. He's starting to believe it_…

"One more, for certain." His friend's voice was shaking slightly now. "What colour was Tonks' hair the day I first introduced you to her?"

The memory flashed across Remus' mind, that day in Grimmauld Place when Kingsley had ushered over a nervous-looking young woman who'd introduced herself to her convict cousin by offering a bottle of hair tonic, because his wanted posters made him look like he'd need it, and who'd barely noticed her cousin's quiet friend until she'd stumbled and he'd caught her, and they'd begun to chat and laugh and make silly remarks as Sirius attempted to use the potion to make a quiff…

And her hair…

"Green. Bright green." Eye-aching green was probably closer, although a little less flattering. "But she changed it to violet later in the evening." He fought to slip an edge of sorrow into his fond smile. "She called it her party trick."

And one look at Kingsley's face was enough.

_He believes it. He believes_.

"Remus," Kingsley repeated again, a hint of an incredulous, stunned, but accepting smile starting to blossom in the corners of his mouth. "Sweet Merlin, it's you. It really is _you_."

Remus couldn't help himself. "I told you so," he said with a half grin.

Kingsley laughed out loud and started forwards towards him as the mutterings of the Wizengamot, silenced by the questioning, jumped sharply to new heights. Matilda Breakspear, still on her feet, was regarding him now with a mixture of incredulity and comprehension as she extended an almost apologetic hand to halt her boss's advance towards his apparently resurrected friend.

"Minister," she exclaimed sharply. "I'm sorry to intrude but… Can you now confirm for certain that this is indeed Remus Lupin?"

At her words, Kingsley seemed to collect himself, to remember that this was indeed a trial over which he was presiding, regardless of old comrades who'd risen from the grave and announced themselves. Deliberately, he forced the smile down from his face and turned to the Head of Magical Law Enforcement.

"I can confirm it," he replied, although Remus could see his formality creaking at the edges slightly. "The conversations cited occurred either out of earshot of any other parties or in the presence of those who are now deceased…" He hesitated with sudden uncertainty. "Mind you, in light of what's just happened, I _assume_ they still are…"

"They are." Remus was quick to intervene to halt that train of thought. _Keep her hidden, keep her safe_… "It was only me that Teddy saved…"

"_Saved_?" Sproule's harsh voice rang out, setting Remus' nerves instantly on edge. "Madam Breakspear, this is _proof_! Indisputable, solid proof that Teddy Lupin has altered history to suit his own ends…"

"He didn't change a _thing_." His voice was more snappish than he would have liked, but there was no way that Remus was going to allow Sproule to build up another vindictive head of steam. "That's the fact that matters here, isn't it?"

Sproule gave an incredulous snort. "You stand here _alive_ when the _Minister for Magic_ has stated that you should be in your grave. How can you _possibly_ claim that nothing has been changed?"

He couldn't help it. He simply couldn't. Remus felt the faux-friendly smile spread over his face as he gazed down at the obnoxious little man who'd been haranguing his son ever since the trial began, and silently thanked the stars that the charming Aloysius wasn't bright enough to grasp the temporal theories that were integral to Teddy's case.

"Mr Sproule," he said softly. "Thank you. You've just made my point for me."

Confusion flashed across Sproule's features. In spite of Hermione's obvious anger at his impulsive self-exposure, he caught sight of her grinning with gratitude for assisting in the putting down of her opposite number.

"Mr Sproule has gone straight to the heart of the matter." Remus took the opportunity to address his comments to the room at large. "If Teddy had been able to change history, no one would have batted an eyelid when I entered the room because those who knew me would never _remember_ me dying. Or at the very least, they would know me to have been missing, presumed dead after the battle, a mystery, never to be seen again." Dimly, in the back of Remus' mind, something fired up in protest, tumbling through the confusing morass of temporal theory that he and Hermione had spent the last few days poring over and debating and prodding at him to suggest that that couldn't be right, because then Teddy would have come from a different history and might never have gone back through the Portal at all, but then that couldn't be right either because that would mean another version of history and the only one that could actually happen was the one that already had and…

Firmly, Remus ordered his brain to shut up, before it embarrassed himself and made his smugness over Sproule's inability to understand look terribly hypocritical. But at the same time, it left him with a nagging, uncomfortable afterthought that whispered that if he was having such trouble after several days of researching the subject, how on earth were the Wizengamot supposed to take on enough information from a few courtroom citations in order to gain the understanding needed for an informed judgement? But then again, all that really mattered here was making sure they understood that Teddy had not done – _could_ not have done - anything to corrupt their past. Clearing his throat, he gathered his thoughts as best he could and continued.

"But Teddy didn't change anything – in fact, he went to great lengths to ensure that he preserved history to play out exactly as it _had, _because he knew he could not succeed any other way. He did not try to save me from death in the past because he knew that since that hadn't happened, it wouldn't be possible; instead he pulled me physically through the time Portal twenty years into my future. That's why I haven't aged, Kingsley – for me that battle was less than a fortnight ago." He glanced at his friend. "Most of the bruises are gone now, but I've got scars from a few cuts if you're desperate for physical proof."

Kingsley's lip twisted awkwardly. "That isn't necessary, Remus, but thank you for the offer." He sighed. "But what I don't understand is that if Teddy pulled you physically out of the past, where did the body I saw buried come from? It was _you_, Remus, right down to the battle damage and the scars from your bite. Everything about it said it was you. Dolohov boasted about it later in battle – Dean Thomas told me he said he'd used the Killing Curse on you and a boy called Colin Creevey to try to upset him and throw him off balance as they fought. The Time Division where _your son_ works later confirmed it. Remus, _no one_ could have survived that…"

An odd muffled whimpering sound came from somewhere out in the court, but Remus could not spare the necessary moment to find its source. "As I said, by then that wasn't me. Teddy pulled me out from the battlements, before the curse hit." He risked a smile. "His timing was impeccable."

Kingsley frowned. "Then who did get hit?"

"A fake. Because my death and burial were a matter of record, Teddy conjured a fake corpse via a Replication Charm to take my place, just as Cornelius Fudge did when he faked his death, I believe." Fudge's trial, Remus knew, had been the previous matter before the Wizengamot and would still be fresh in the minds of its members, he was sure. Their murmurs suggested he was right. "Everything is as it should be because Teddy knew better than to try to change the past. He preserved the past exactly as he knew it would be and simply changed the _present _instead. And I'm not sure that there's any law against _that_." He straightened his back, pulling his robes down as he turned to face the plum-robed masses before him, appealing as directly as he dared to what he prayed was their understanding and compassion. "Teddy shouldn't have gone to so much trouble for me," he stated, his voice quiet but firm. "He acted on impulse to save the father he never knew from being killed in front of him, and though I am grateful for his efforts, I have already told him that I did not want to see him sacrifice _his_ future on _my _behalf." For an instant, Remus could have sworn he caught a glimpse of Kingsley rolling his eyes, but he pointedly ignored this apparent unspoken swipe at what Harry had so kindly designated his _martyr complex_ and carried on regardless. "And that is why I come here now to ask this of you. Do as you like with me. Kill me, imprison me, return me to the past to die as history says I did, whatever you prefer. But do not punish my son for a moment of rash impulsiveness when faced with watching his father die." He raised his chin. "Let whatever you would do with him fall upon me instead."

And into the silence that followed his pronouncement broke a single voice.

"Remus Lupin, you bloody great _prat_!"

He felt his blood freeze. _Oh no. Oh please no_…

He hadn't heard the doors to the courtroom open, hadn't heard the squeak of hinges or the clunk of the handle turning. But one glance over his shoulder was enough to see the furious red-headed figure silhouetted within the doorframe, shoulders heaving, fists clenched, eyes, _dark eyes_ fixed upon him as though death itself was far too good for him. Footsteps pounded in her wake; in the corridor behind her, Remus caught a glimpse of Harry, rounding the corner as he galloped down the steps towards his wife', in an apparent last ditch effort to preserve some measure of the secrecy he'd deemed so necessary earlier. Behind him, Remus caught a glimpse of wide eyes and red heads – Arthur, Molly and Bill, it seemed, had followed his dash and heard the roar of a long-dead name along with everyone _else_ on the floor.

But in that moment, all Remus cared about was shutting Dora up before she gave herself away. Andromeda, after a frantic glance in his direction, was half on her feet and Harry was almost upon her now, but was it too little, too late?

Knowing Dora, probably…

_Make her sit down, please Harry, please, make her shut up and sit down before she gives herself away_…

"_Ginny_!" The bellow of the name from Harry's lips was very pointed. "Ginny, love, calm down and sit down, there's nothing we can do now about…"

But the Ginny-Tonks had already thrown off his restraining hand and marched straight past her mother, pounding down the stairs, and with each footstep, Remus could see with pure horror that her features were melting, her hair shortening and flaring into pinkness, her height and body shape shifting until abruptly she slammed to a halt before him, all trace of her disguise tossed aside.

Too little, too late indeed.

Remus had never in his entire life felt so much like screaming out loud with frustration. _Why_? Why the bloody hell couldn't she have just stayed safe and out of sight, why couldn't she have shown a little common sense about the matter? But in spite of his clenched fists and eyes flung despairing towards the ceiling, deep within he could hear a part of himself whispering the truth of the thing, telling him that it could really only ever have been this way. The only subject that they had ever truly and sincerely fought about, the only subject that drove them both to do irrational and foolish things, was the matter of the safety of each other.

_Damn_.

He heard Kingsley's shocked gasp of "_Tonks too_?" from somewhere behind him, heard Teddy groan and a thud that he suspected was Hermione's head coming to rest against her table. Crowded in the doorway and ignoring the efforts of the Security Wizards to force them out again, Arthur, Molly and Bill were gaping at the couple in wonder. And Harry, oh dear, _Harry_… his expression filled with anger and disappointment, jaw clenched and eyes cold as he stood near the doorway and stared down at his former teacher. There was a hint of apology on his face for his failure to restrain Tonks but other than that, he looked the antithesis of thrilled at this turn of events.

And finally, finally, Remus looked down at his wife.

He made no attempt to stop her hand as it swung in hard and impacted against his cheek with a bruising thud, slamming his head sideways with the force of the blow. He knew that, from her perspective, he'd earned that much.

"You _prat_." Her voice was low, cold and furious, rich with epic danger. "You bloody stupid, self-sacrificing, idiotic, _noble prat_!" Her fists clenched in front of her, as though she yearned to seize his robes and fling him violently down the stairs. "I don't _believe _this! After everything we've been through, everything we agreed and we sorted, you still feel the need to chuck yourself to the lions the moment my back's turned! You probably had your little speech all rehearsed, didn't you? Or why bother with a whole new one when you can just use the same one you came up with before?" Clasping her hands together, she shifted her face abruptly into a grotesquely fatuous approximation of his own. "Oh Dora, darling!" she proclaimed, her voice suddenly lowered and filled with fake hoarseness as she ruthlessly parodied his intonations. "Don't you see it's for the best? You're young, you've got your life ahead of you! You can go on without me and have a wonderful future stroking fluffy bunnies and skipping in meadows and marrying nice safe blokes with boring, jolly jobs and lots of money, so you can pop out happy, smiley babies who won't get ostracised at all because of their terrible, terrible werewolf daddy! I'm only trying to give you the life you deserve! You can just forget all about me, I'll just be burning agonisingly in a pit of flames over there, but I don't _actually_ mind, and it doesn't really matter to you because you can just abandon the idea that you ever loved me and move on with a click of your fingers, now can't you? After all, you must know you'll be so much better off without _me_!"

The last word was flung in his direction like a fiery cannon ball as her morph dropped away with a suddenness that was almost violent.

"Something like that, was it?" she drawled with poisonous sweetness.

Remus fought back the surge of guilt and embarrassment that flowed through him, forcing himself to remember that, in spite of her rather painfully close to the bone brand of mockery, he really had been acting in her best interests, both then and now. Why, oh why, could she never understand that?

His frustration bubbled over abruptly, concern and anguish at seeing her throw herself unnecessarily into the crucible beside him, _yet again,_ thrusting itself sharply to the fore. "So I'm supposed to apologise for caring, am I?" he snapped back with rather more force than either he or Tonks had probably expected. "I'm supposed to go down on my knees and grovel for forgiveness for just wanting you to be _safe_?"

"I don't mind you wanting me safe!" Tonks' face thrust up to within inches of his. "What I mind is you buggering off and trying to protect me without even asking me first! And why the hell do you refuse to understand that I want _you _safe too?"

"My safety doesn't matter as much as yours!"

"It _does to me_!"

"It shouldn't!" Remus shot the words back like a whiplash. "I had to do something, Dora, for _Teddy_ I had to do it! But I wanted to make sure that _this time_, he at least had _one parent left_!"

The moment the words had passed his lips, Remus knew he'd stepped over a line. The flash of shock and hurt that surged in his wife's eyes burned him; ignited, he knew, by her own private regret that she had chosen to fight for the future with her husband rather than stay behind safe with her baby son. He stepped back at once, wiping one hand over his mouth as he closed his eyes against the pain he had caused her, and against the guilt that had finally dampened down the anger in his heart. Somewhere behind him, he heard a throat being cleared, but pushed the distraction away in favour of Dora.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I shouldn't have said that."

Her voice, when it came, was strangely tired. "No. You shouldn't have. But I shouldn't be yelling like this either." As he slowly opened his eyes once more, he caught a glimpse of her apologetic shrug. "I mean, this is you, isn't it? Remus Lupin, undisputed High King of the Noble Prats." He risked a smile at that and was relieved to receive a wan one in return. Her eyes drifted up to meet his. "You wouldn't be the man I fell in love with if you weren't forever trying to throw yourself to your doom in the name of those you love. Even if it is _bloody infuriating_." She punctuated her statement with a couple of half-hearted wallops against his arm.

Remus felt himself smile with resignation. "And I suppose you wouldn't be the woman I fell in love with if you didn't march in here and beat the stuffing out of me for trying it," he replied quietly. "Even if that's _bloody infuriating_ for me too."

Dora smiled more sincerely as she reached out and caught hold of his hand. "Sorry about the face," she ventured.

Remus shrugged. "I've had worse. From you, as it happens. I may have to start investing in body armour…"

The quirk of Tonks' lips implied a cheeky retort was in the offing but before the words could be spoken, the second clearing of that throat behind Remus served as an abrupt reminder that their argument had not exactly been a private one.

"Well," Kingsley's deep voice echoed throughout the courtroom. "As one of the few people in existence ever to witness the epic scariness of Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks arguing over his noble tendencies and her refusal to be protected, I can confirm that if I had any lingering doubts before, they're _definitely _gone now. That's them all right."

With a mock glare, Dora glanced around her husband's shoulder. "You're asking for a kick in the shins, Shacklebolt. And _don't_ call me Nymphadora."

Kingsley's chuckle reverberated loudly. "And that's the clincher."

Remus turned slowly, catching Tonks' hand as he looked out over the faces of the Wizengamot once more. Some remained astounded, others awed, but upon some faces was a kind of grim weariness was settling now, one that spoke to Remus in ominous tones. Kingsley was smiling broadly, but Sproule looked infuriated, and Matilda Breakspear's mouth was set in a cool, thin line that Remus couldn't help but feel did not bode well.

Tonks' wrath or not, he had to do something.

"I would like to state that my offer still stands," he declared, his voice soft but carrying powerfully – he saw Dora's head whip round towards him, felt her grasp tighten warningly, but he ignored her. "Though I would like to add the coda that my wife also be allowed to go free and unpunished…"

"And I'd like to ask that you ignore the idiot next to me." Tonks' clear voice cut his sentence neatly away. "Whatever you decide goes for both of us, as long as Teddy is left alone."

"And I'd like to ask that you _ignore them both_." Teddy's voice cut sharply into the courtroom as he half rose from his chair – his guards, distracted by the drama unfolding around them, made no effort to restrain him this time. "Do what you want with me, I'm the criminal here, but let _them_ go free. They're _innocent _and they've done nothing to deserve any of this! They shouldn't have died so young, they deserve another chance to _live_…"

"And not just _them_!" The echo of this voice, tearful, frantic, almost desperately, painfully hopeful, brought instant silence to the courtroom. The short, mousy-haired man who had been waiting by the witness stand stumbled forwards past Sproule and over towards Teddy's chair in the centre of the flat courtroom floor, his hands grasping at the sleeves of his robes as his eyes fixed upon Teddy's wide eyed face. "You did it for your parents, you brought them back and they're here, now, alive, they can have a _future_…"

Teddy was shaking his head. "Dennis…"

"So do the same for _Colin_!" The Security Wizards were moving forwards now, although a compassionate wave of Kingsley's hand made them fall back again from the man lurching onwards with his shallow breaths and twitchy motion. "He was sixteen, just sixteen, when that monster Dolohov stole his life! Surely my big brother deserves another chance as well!"

Colin Creevey. Remus felt his stomach lurch as he remembered the enthusiastic, if not desperately talented boy in his second year classes, small, mousy haired and bright eyed; but the image swam away, brutally superseded by a limp young figure flung to the ground like a rag doll by the stab of green light from Antonin Dolohov's wand. The Death Eater had been _laughing_.

Remus had never known a rage like the one that had filled him in that moment. A young life wasted, tossed aside as though it didn't matter. His brother was right, Colin did deserve a second chance, more than _he_ did if the truth be told.

But it couldn't be. If the Portal was so used again, where would it stop? How could the line ever be drawn, how could the choices be made of who was worthy and who was not? Even their presence was so dangerous, for it opened up possibilities, and where would it all end if they were allowed to stay, how many others would come and demand the same favour? How many others would deserve it as much if not more?

Why was nothing in life ever fair?

Teddy had come to his feet, holding out his hands towards his friend almost pleadingly. "Dennis, you know I can't; his death is a matter of record…"

"_Why not_?" The despair in Dennis' voice was excruciating. "Their death was a matter of record too until you did this! Why should _you_ be allowed this miracle and no one else? What makes _them_ so much more worthy of a second chance than everyone else who died that day?"

Teddy's face was deathly pale. "Dennis, I'm sorry. It's not that… I saw a way and I just wanted them back so much…"

"And I _want my brother_!" The words were a roar. "And if you won't help me…" His eyes darted up the stairs, furtive, dangerous. "The Portal's still open to the past! I'll do it myself!"

"Dennis, _no_! Stop him, he'll be _killed_!" Teddy rushed forwards as the little man darted past with a speed born of desperation, but ridiculously it was the younger man that the Security Wizards stepped in to restrain. Remus half-started towards Dennis as he hurled himself up the steps, screaming his brother's name, but in his impulsive despair, the Unspeakable made no effort to look where he was going. Consequently, he did not see the Head of the Auror Office stepping grimly in front of him until Harry's soft Sleeping Spell struck him and dropped him into instant slumber by the door.

The courtroom went deathly still.

"Vigers. Asplin." It was Matilda Breakspear's suddenly slightly shaky voice that finally broke the silence, as she gestured to the two Security Wizards standing by Teddy's chair. "Please take Mr Creevey to one of the court holding rooms until he recovers. We will decide how to help him later."

"But…" The taller of the two guards, a lanky blond, gestured to Teddy. "The prisoner…"

"Will be quite safe with us, Mr Vigers. Thank you."

Reluctantly, the two guards obeyed, moving up to where Harry and Andromeda were bent over Dennis' suddenly peaceful form – Remus noted absently that beyond them the doors had been forced closed at some point during the recent chaos, although Arthur, Molly and Bill were still there, apparently on the grounds that it was pointless trying to hide anything from them now, and had moved over to join a very pale Victoire inside.

"As for the rest of this business…" Matilda Breakspear took a long, heavy breath. "Now that we have the full facts of the matter, there is a great deal we have to debate. And I feel that debate might go somewhat more cleanly without further interruption." She turned to Hermione. "Madam Weasley, as you seem to be acquainted with more of the details of this matter than you have told the court-" even from his higher position, Remus could see Hermione's potent blush at this statement "–I would appreciate it if you would remain a few moments to clarify some of them. And since it would hardly be fair to keep the defence counsel present without her fellow or indeed the prosecution, Madam Goldstein and Mr Sproule may remain also." Her lip curled slightly at the expression of oily smugness on Sproule's face. "As for the rest of you – there are waiting rooms in the chambers through there." She gestured to the little door through which Teddy had earlier been escorted, and through which the unconscious Dennis was now being carried. "I would very much appreciate it if Mr Lupin – well, _both_ Mr Lupins, and their family and friends would make use of them." She raised her head. "The Wizengamot has very serious decisions to make, regarding Teddy Lupin's actions, his parents' presence and the very significant issue of others wishing to follow suit raised so poignantly by Mr Creevey. And I think they will go more smoothly without all this _excitement_." Closing her eyes for a brief moment, she turned to Kingsley, whose face was suddenly solemn and filled with resigned comprehension. "And Minister…"

"It's all right." Kingsley raised his hands. "It's all right, Matilda. Given my obvious bias in favour of a lenient fate for Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks, I willingly withdraw myself from your deliberations. I'll wait in the chambers with the others."

"Thank you." Matilda looked extremely relieved. "This is a serious matter," she said quietly, almost to herself. "With frightening ramifications for the entire wizarding world. We must preserve the past, the present and future with what we decide today." She bit her lip, and her eyes drifted to where Remus still waited, his wife's hand clasped in his. "At all costs."

Remus nodded. He understood.

And as he followed the short stream of people down to the chambers, smiling wanly at Molly Weasley's joyful face, nodding a quiet apology to Harry, Remus couldn't help but feel a shiver of fear as the door closed behind him with a heavy clang, leaving fifty wizards and witches in plum coloured robes to decide his family's fate in agonising privacy.

And all he could do now was wait.


	22. Decisions

**A/N:** Many apologies for the delay on the posting of this chapter - a combination of persistant ruddy headaches and my little niece's Christening delayed things like writing rather over the last couple of weeks. Thanks go to all those kind enough to review and to my Merry Band of Plot Helpers, including of course Snorkackcatcher for betaring. :)

_**21: Decisions**_

Tonks only managed to catch a half-glimpse of the medium-sized, bench-lined chamber into which they had all just been ushered before she was utterly engulfed by a mass of greying red hair and the breath-stealing embrace of a powerful pair of arms.

"Oh, Tonks! Oh, my dear, I can't believe it's you! And you're standing here and you're alive and you don't look a day older than I remember you! It's amazing, it's wonderful, oh, and I can't believe it…"

Smiling to herself, Tonks reached out and wrapped her arms around the familiar, plump, knitwear-covered form that was clinging to her, returning the embrace with enthusiasm.

"Hi Molly," she replied fondly. "It's good to you see you too!"

Molly's reply, muffled against Tonks' robes, was half laugh and half sob. Pressing her cheek against the side of her motherly friend's head, Tonks caught a glimpse over her shoulder of Arthur and Bill taking it in turns to grasp and pump Remus' hand, of Kingsley standing and shaking his head with a slight smile as he watched, of Harry and Andromeda standing side by side and looking, by turns, both slightly amused and deeply worried and of Teddy…

Teddy.

Tonks stiffened. Her son had just slumped down on one of the cushioned benches in the far corner of the room, his head clasped in shaking hands, his whole body shivering uncontrollably. Victoire, her face filled with concern, had dropped down next to him and was in the process of taking him awkwardly into her arms.

_Oh, Teddy_…

Gently, apologetically, Tonks extricated herself from Molly's embrace, and her single glance in her son's direction answered the question in the older woman's eyes. As Molly stepped back with an understanding smile, Tonks caught Remus' eye and, as her husband followed her gaze, he too made quick excuses and moved after her across the room.

Teddy did not look up at his parents, approach, lost within his own palms as Victoire frowned and rubbed comforting circles across his shoulders, meeting the eyes of her boyfriend's mother with concern. Tonks did not hesitate as she stepped forward and laid her own hand on Teddy's shoulder. She felt him stiffen and tense.

"Teddy?" she said softly. "Teddy, what's wrong?"

There was a long moment of silence as Teddy's fingers clenched reflexively against his hairline. And then slowly, shakily, he raised his head.

His face was wet with tears. But his eyes…

His eyes were _furious_.

"_What's wrong_?" The despairing venom with which her son expelled those two words startled Tonks. "What's _bloody wrong_? What do you _think_ is wrong?"

"Teddy…" Remus' quiet voice was calm water against a maelstrom and was quickly tossed aside as his son's almost painfully intense stare wheeled round upon him.

"And _you_!" Shrugging aside Victoire and his mother in one swift motion, Teddy shot to his feet, his eyes burrowing into his father's face like fiery embers. "How could you _do _that? _Why _did you do that? You didn't _have _to do that, you didn't have to barge in and ruin everything! It would just have been Azkaban, just months or a couple of years at the most, and no one would ever have known about you if you'd just sat still and stayed quiet! You would have been safe and fine and happy and had a _future_ and now you've _blown it all_! You saw the looks on their faces! The Wizengamot don't get it! They don't understand the theory, they don't understand that they can just let you go on and everything will be fine! They'll want to try and send you back; I know they will, because they don't understand that you _don't need to die_! They don't understand that sending you back isn't necessary, it's _murder_! And if you'd have just stayed quiet…"

Although Remus was fighting to keep his face impassive, Tonks could see the guilt, the regret and the sorrow straining at the edges of his features, and in the depths of her mind, a part of her was screaming _good_, was still screaming _you idiot_ and _look what you've done_. But at the same time, she knew full well that Remus – that _she_ – could never truly have lived the hidden life that staying silent would have entailed, and that in spite of her rage at his acting so emphatically without her, of his being a noble prat _yet again_, a secret corner of her heart had been relieved to have it all out in the open. In spite of her talents in that area, Nymphadora Tonks was not a woman built to hide. The last year – or the last year before the Portal, at any rate - had taught her that. It led to overwhelming frustration, to foolish impulses and running off to battle…

"I couldn't." Remus' soft words broke into her musing. "Teddy, I couldn't just stay quiet, you must know that. Sproule was trying to set you up and I couldn't let that happen…"

"Why not?" Anger was giving way to weary despair on Teddy's face. "I _did the crime_, dad. I broke the first rule of the Portal for purely selfish reasons. I put Penny into a _coma_. I _deserve_ to be punished. But _you don't_."

Remus closed his eyes. "Teddy…"

Fresh tears were trickling down Teddy's face as he slumped abruptly back into his seat and Victoire's quietly waiting arms. "You didn't need to do it," he repeated softly. "All you've done is make things _worse_."

"He's right, you know."

Tonks saw Remus wince visibly at the dark tone in Harry's voice. The saviour of the wizarding world was staring at his former teacher with a cold mixture of disappointment, frustration and resignation.

"You promised me." Harry's eyes glittered like grim emeralds. "You _promised _me when I took your wife upstairs that you weren't going to barrel in there and do _exactly_ what you did. That was the only reason I let you out of my _sight_, Remus. And what the hell did you drink, because it certainly wasn't the Polyjuice…"

Tonks sighed, her mind darting back to Harry's office, staring at photos of Ginny as she tried to match the vivid tone of Harry's wife's hair just right. She remembered the way her stomach had plunged and how she'd lurched to her feet when Harry had told her of the conversation that he'd just had with Remus, and the promise he'd had him make, because she knew Remus, knew him all too well, and knew that if he'd set his mind upon something, he'd find a way around that oath somehow…

"I promised I wouldn't do anything stupid." Remus' face was apologetic but underwritten with steel. "And it _wasn't _stupid, I was trying to protect my son…"

_And there's the get out clause_…. She'd known there would be one. Remus would never have broken a promise made in good faith outright, but he'd bend the edges as far as they'd go, if he had a way to justify it to himself.

Harry's sigh was immense. "Of _course_ not. _Magnificent_. Like father, like son, I see."

The stubborn set of Remus' shoulders was all too familiar. "I'm sorry, truly sorry, I deceived you, Harry. But even now, whatever the outcome, I honestly believe this was the right thing to do…"

Harry's snort cut away the rest of the sentence. "The _right thing_? Remus, if your son wasn't facing a prison sentence, he certainly is now. Hermione, Ron, Ginny and I are all going to have to explain why we didn't mention the small fact of your return sooner, though I'm hoping for at least one vaguely understanding ear…" He glanced at Kingsley, who had settled on a bench on the other side of the room and acknowledged Harry's statement with an upturned eyebrow. "And as for you – you must have known Tonks would never sit back and let you martyr yourself again…"

"Damn right." Tonks fixed her husband with a pointed glare, from which he had the good grace to wince. "Did you really think after everything we'd been through that I would let you get away with that?"

Harry nodded to her, his eyes suddenly, inexplicably sorrowful. "Exactly. And so, whatever your intentions, in stepping forwards you revealed both yourself and your wife to the Wizengamot. And now…." He sighed suddenly. "And now, Merlin knows _what_ they'll decide to do. Teddy's right, Remus. All you've done is make things worse."

There was a long moment of silence. Tonks found her eyes drifting around the room, to Harry's grim, sad eyes, to the bizarre mixture of confusion and understanding on the faces of Molly, Arthur and Bill, to her mother's frightened face, to Teddy, resting his head against Victoire's shoulder in weary misery, to Remus' half steely, half-stricken face.

And finally, she looked to Kingsley, sitting there in his plum-coloured robes, a strange amalgam of the comforting presence of her old friend and colleague and the imposing sternness of the Minister for Magic. She could almost see the torn edges of his thoughts fluttering behind his eyes, so glad to see his friends alive, yet keeping his distance against the pain of possibly losing them again so soon; half joy and half sorrow, half the glory of rediscovery, half the shadow of potential loss. She could tell he was itching to rush back into the chamber, to hurl himself into the debate, to plead their case, but she knew also that he would never do that - for she knew that was not his way, from his own admissions of how he came to join the Order, back in the days when his first doubts about Sirius' conviction were starting to surface. Kingsley Shacklebolt had always known when to speak out and when to keep his own counsel and wait. And Tonks knew, as he must know, that the Wizengamot had to be seen to reach their decision fairly. If it went in their favour and he was involved, the likes of Rita Skeeter would slip the words _bias_ and _favouritism_ into their by-lines and the reputation for fairness and honesty Teddy had told them Kingsley had garnered would be tarnished for good.

Even if it meant the lives of two long lost friends.

Tonks fought not to shiver. She hadn't thought, not really, about the true impact of her actions when she'd barrelled down into the courtroom and abandoned her disguise in the name of giving her stupid git of a husband what for. She hadn't properly considered it, for she'd been too angry with him to waste time in bracing herself for the possible consequences of her actions. Oh, she'd spoken the words, meant the words, but it was now, as the adrenalin seeped away, as her thoughts sharpened and focussed in this chamber full of her nearest and dearest, that she began to realise just what it would mean if the Wizengamot ruled they had to return to the past.

They would die.

And Teddy would lose them again. And this time, he'd feel it truly.

Remus' words in the courtroom stabbed at her heart. She had chosen her husband and the fight ahead over her son for the second time. She had never, _ever_ intended to, hadn't even thought about it, so furious was she when she'd seen what Remus had done. But would Teddy see it like that? No wonder he was angry with them.

Because he'd risked his future to save their lives only to face losing them both again.

There was no getting around it. She'd listened to the proclamations of Teddy's friends from the Time Division, had quietly absorbed Remus and Hermione's temporal debates as they'd worked around the case. And from her understanding, the past was the past. Stepping into the past would only create the outcome already known, changed from what it could have been but not from what history said it was. And history said they were dead.

Who was to say for sure it really was a pair of fake corpses Harry had seen in the Great Hall that day? Who was to say those graves that Teddy had visited really didn't contain their real bones? Who could say for sure that this trip into the future was anything more than an interlude, delaying the truth of their inevitable fate?

Death. They'd tricked their way out of it once. But who was to say that face she'd seen bathed in green light for that brief second before Teddy had pulled them away hadn't been her future self? Or what if they tried to send them back into the Portal and couldn't? What if they ended up dead on the floor of the Portal chamber, or lost forever, torn to pieces, body and soul, by that horrible crimson light?

She didn't want to die. Who could honestly say they did? And yes, the last few weeks had been painful and confusing at times, but it was a hell of a lot better than oblivion. But what was worse, so much worse, was how helpless she felt. Tonks was an Auror, a warrior, a woman of action; she couldn't stand the thought of her fate not being held in her own hands. Her actions, her decisions, were what defined her and yes, there were times when her actions and decisions were downright bloody stupid, but at least they were _her _mistakes to make. But standing here now, waiting for a bunch of plum-robed wizards and witches to decide whether or not she should die, and knowing that there was nothing, absolutely _nothing_ she could do about it…

To be willing to give your life in battle was one thing. To be told you have to go and give it at an appointed place and time was another.

Never had Tonks had so much respect for Harry.

"Do you think they'll send them back?" It was Andromeda's voice that broke the lingering silence, her gaze fixed upon Kingsley. "Do you think they'll be able to do that? To send two innocent people back into the past to die there?"

"They can't." Molly's voice was rife with disbelieving horror. "That would be murder, plain and simple. You can't just send two young people to their deaths for no reason at all…"

"They can if they decide they're dead already." Kingsley pulled himself slowly to his feet, his expression suddenly very tired, and for the first time Tonks saw a glimpse of the weight of twenty additional years upon her friend. "Or that they have to die in order to preserve the past. History says that Nymphadora Tonks and Remus Lupin died in that battle. The Wizengamot could decide that since that's what history says, that's what history has to get. If I've understood all this quagmire of temporal theory correctly, time travel can only make things the way they are. The Wizengamot may see this as proof that they're only fulfilling history as it should be…"

"But I made _sure_!" Teddy's voice burst out from the corner. "I left fake corpses behind! They don't have to die for history to be correct!"

Kingsley nodded in slow thoughtfulness. "I think I see that now. But what I see doesn't matter anymore. It's for the Wizengamot to decide."

"I'm sure there's been no damage." Harry's eyes had drifted over to Remus but there was a whisper of the faraway in his emerald gaze. "I had an…_encounter_ back at the Battle of Hogwarts that pretty much proves it." He swallowed hard. "And I'll go before the Wizengamot and tell them so, if they'll let me. But history can manage itself perfectly well if Remus and Tonks stay here. I'm certain of it."

"I… I'm sorry to interrupt but…" There was something strange in Molly's face too, an odd mixture of confusion, concern and the tiniest hint of an almost painful hope, as she uncomfortably adjusted her cardigan and fingered her handbag almost convulsively. "It's just… I think I've got this right… Teddy used some kind of time Portal in the Department of Mysteries and pulled Remus and Tonks from the past. And this didn't change history because he left fake corpses behind?"

The hope was growing, spreading, a glimmering light within her eyes, and Tonks felt a cold, sharp plunge in her chest as her mind darted back to a too-familiar name engraved upon a golden fountain in the Atrium of the Ministry of Magic…

_Oh Molly, no, please don't_…

Arthur too had clearly seen which way the conversation was turning – his jaw clenched, and he moved over to his wife and rested a gentle hand against her shoulder.

"Molly…" he said softly. "Molly, don't…"

But Molly did not turn and made no acknowledgement of her husband's gesture, ploughing on with a momentum that bordered upon desperation, her hands shaking, her breaths short and shallow, her voice wavering.

"It's just…I thought…If it worked once…And I _know _it's wrong to ask, I do, but I have to…he was my _son_…My _Fred_…And if there's any chance…"

The long, low, despairing groan was Teddy's – Tonks saw her son slump even lower in his seat, his face buried in his hands once more. Kingsley's expression hardened grimly as Remus half-started towards Molly, compassion shining in his eyes. But Arthur was closer, his arms reaching out as his wife's eyes glistened with tears.

"Molly…" He whispered again.

"I'm sorry…oh, I'm so sorry!" Molly's head was shaking as she allowed herself to be pulled into his embrace, burrowing into his shoulder as she clasped his robes reflexively. "I shouldn't…I'm sorry!"

"Molly, it's all right." Remus voice was soft. "He was your son. No one can blame you for hoping."

Bill had joined his father now, patting his mother softly on the back, his scarred face full of old, familiar sorrow. "We all miss him," he added quietly. "But Mum, Percy told us he was staring him in the face when he died. He saw it happen. That can't have been a replacement… Trying to pull him out now wouldn't _work_…"

Molly's tears redoubled into sobs as her husband and son carefully guided her over to a nearby corner to sit, settling on either side of her as they offered their support. But for the sound of her crying, the room was silent once more.

"And there's the other problem." It's was Kingsley's slow, deep voice that broken the moment of quiet. "Dennis Creevey and now Molly have just demonstrated the additional danger here; what happens when word of this miracle goes public? What will people say when they find out two people twenty years dead have been brought back via the Ministry's time Portal?" He sighed deeply. "We'll be swamped with relatives demanding the same favour for their loved ones – bring back my husband, my wife, my mother, my son… And when we tell them no, they'll demand, just as Dennis did, to know why one person is allowed this gift, when all others are denied. If even someone like Molly feels compelled to ask, where will it end? And when you consider that there are still some few out there who might think Voldemort or Grindelwald had the right idea…"

"The Wizengamot won't want this made public." Remus' voice was level, but his eyes were grim. "They won't want _us _made public."

Tonks could feel the cold in her chest welling up once more as she spoke. "So even though we've come forward, we'll still have to hide. And even then, if someone finds us…"

"The truth will still come out." Remus was at her side now, his fingers threading carefully through hers and squeezing with a gentle reassurance that utterly failed to dispel the fear in Tonks' heart. "And even if the Wizengamot do accept that history does not need our deaths, it might still make an excellent excuse to nip any outcry in the bud. Send us back, destroy the Portal, and that's the end of any risk it could happen again…"

"That's barbaric!" To Tonks' slight surprise, the indignant exclamation belonged to Victoire. "They can't just kill Mr and Mrs Lupin to keep this quiet!"

"It's been done before." Andromeda's voice was cold. "My research into Wizarding and Muggle families has shown that every so often, a person can prove inconvenient. I can think of two or three in the Black line alone…"

"And then there were the likes of Dolores Umbridge." Remus' tone was fraught with ice as he nodded in Harry's direction. "I'm willing to bet she wouldn't have shed too many tears if the Dementors she sent to provoke Harry had silenced him for good."

"But that's not now!" Victoire's face was furious. "They couldn't… they _wouldn't_!"

"They might." Bill met his daughter's gaze from the far side of the room, silencing her angry splutterings. "But we can only hope they're better than that."

"Matilda is." Kingsley was staring blankly at the ceiling. "And a good number of the others. But I couldn't vouch for everyone in that room feeling the same."

"So, whatever happens, we're screwed." The words slipped out almost before Tonks was aware of them. "We go back and die or we hide away for the rest of our lives. Nothing's changed from this morning but the power to make that choice ourselves."

She felt Remus' fingers stiffen in her grasp, saw the guilt in his eyes as he glanced towards her. But the half-expected anger she had felt before did not emerge again – instead she simply tightened her hold upon his hand once more and leaned silently into his shoulder.

_Well, whatever they decide_, she pondered silently, talking a moment to breathe in his so-familiar scent, to press against the bony outline of his shoulder beneath his robes and feel his fingers clasped in hers. _At least we'll be together._

There seemed little more to discuss. And so they waited. Waited for the summons back, waited for the news, waited for something, anything as they talked quietly amongst themselves about everything and nothing. Painful minutes turned into agonising hours.

And then came the knock at the door.

Everyone froze. The icy tendrils that had snaked around Tonks' heart tightened harshly as Harry squared his shoulders and marched over to the door, pulling it open to reveal the man that Kingsley had introduced as the Court Scribe, what felt like decades ago.

"Terry," Harry greeted softly. "What's up?"

Terry gave a wan smile, his eyes drifting absently, oh Gods, _guiltily_ in Remus' direction. He took a shallow breath.

"Madam Breakspear sent me to fetch you," he said awkwardly. "Harry… Professor Lupin… It's time for the verdict. The Wizengamot is ready to vote."


	23. Out of Time

**A/N**: Apologies for the delay - a combination of a stinking cold and the inexplicable disappearence of a fairly crucial email somewhere in the ether between myself my beta Snorkackcatcher has held this chapter back. I am also very aware that this is a fairly uncharitable place to break off for Christmas and even though I am now safely tucked away in my anti-reviewer bunker, I will attempt to get the next chapter up before the big day if I can. So please don't hurt me...

_**22: Out of Time**_

Remus couldn't help but notice how pale Matilda Breakspear looked as she watched the small knot of people she had earlier asked to be removed, return in silence to her courtroom. As he and Tonks, at a tight-lipped Hermione's urging, moved over to take a seat just beside the table for the defence counsel, he could feel the eyes of the Wizengamot following them almost as one, could hear the soft swell of muttering and almost sense the whirring of their minds.

But as to what they were thinking, he could not sense at all.

Rather than resuming their seats high in the gallery, Harry, the Weasleys, and Andromeda dropped onto a riser a few steps above Remus' resting place, although Harry himself did not take a seat – instead he dropped quickly down to Hermione's side, with questions in his eyes. Remus and Tonks needed no urging to join them, and neither did Kingsley, who, after exchanging a brief word with Matilda, wandered over to their side.

"How did it go?" the Head of the Aurors was asking softly, his eyes straying from Teddy, blotchy faced and alone in his chair in the centre of the room, to Aloysius Sproule, who was shuffling through his papers with an odd look of discomfort. "Can I take Sproule looking out of sorts as a good sign?"

Hermione sighed deeply. "It's hard to say. It was a difficult debate and I don't think Sproule could follow a lot of it – that's why he doesn't look happy. He can't tell if he's won the fight or not."

Remus found his eyes drifting once more from his wife's anxious features to his son's expression of resigned misery. So much at stake for the people he loved…

"Has he?" he asked softly.

Hermione's second sigh was even more emphatic than the first. "I honestly don't know. I know some of the Wizengamot understand and appreciate what's happened now – Violetta Argyle and Apollo Greengrass were arguing your side quite fervently by the end. But some of the other members won't be persuaded that anything other than sending you back to the past will do. They brought it up the moment you'd gone and they wouldn't let it drop."

Kingsley pulled a face. "Let me guess - DeWinter? Kingross? Selwyn?"

Hermione nodded. "Amongst others, but Tertias DeWinter was the ringleader. He even got Rajesh Chaudhry back in here and explained what had happened so he could tell the court whether or not it could be done."

Remus felt himself frown. He remembered Tertias DeWinter very well, although now he was a grey-haired, wizened old man rather than the powerful, bearded professor Remus still pictured; he had failed until now to recognise him. DeWinter's harsh and pointed lectures against Dark Creatures in his role as Remus' first year Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher had been the principal reason he'd been so utterly terrified when his friends had worked out what he was. He'd never been more relieved in his life when DeWinter had joined a Kappa hunting expedition in Mongolia and left the school at the end of the year.

At his side, Dora had paled visibly. "What did Chaudhry say?"

Hermione's smile was humourless. "He said maybe and refused to elaborate. When they pushed him for an actual answer, he was forced to admit that with the field broken and the magical dampeners along with it, it might be possible to use a Switching Spell to swap the fake bodies Teddy left for the real thing in the instant before the Killing Curse hit. But he also said that he would have no part in such an action because it was unnecessary and inhuman and he couldn't see anyone else from the Time Division participating either."

"Good man." Kingsley nodded with grim approval. "What was the response?"

Hermione grimaced. "DeWinter said that he'd do what he was told if he valued his job. And then Sproule volunteered to do the switching."

Harry's jaw clenched. "I want him _out_. I swear, I'm going to find a way…"

Kingsley's firm grip against the younger man's shoulder put an end to the impending tirade, although Remus could see from the twitching of muscles in the Auror's face that Harry was longing to continue.

"We can see to that later." The Minister for Magic was frowning deeply. "What happened then, Hermione?"

Hermione pulled a face. "Padma and I tried to step in. When DeWinter told us off for speaking out of turn, Greengrass turned on him and made my points for me, thank goodness. They sent Chaudhry back to work and then the debate went on. Everyone had their say, of course, but there were an awful lot hedging their bets. I honestly haven't a clue which way this is going to go."

"Order, please." Matilda's voice, although surprisingly soft, nevertheless brought an end to both the hurried conference behind the defence table and the muttering amongst the Wizengamot. "If everyone could return to their seats… Minister, if you would remain with the observers for the time being, that would be appreciated. And Mr and Mrs Lupin, as I believe your son's counsel has indicated, we'd like you here by the front."

After a moment's pause, Kingsley nodded, hesitating a fraction to clasp his hand against Dora's shoulder before moving up to sit next to an ashen-faced Andromeda. Harry, after taking a second to grasp his former professor's arm, followed him. Hermione had already dropped back into her seat beside Padma and was sitting bolt upright and attentive, a scene that made Remus briefly flash back to the bushy-haired thirteen year-old at Hogwarts, waiting desperately for the chance to thrust one hand into the air and prove herself. But there was a confidence to her demeanour now, in spite of her obvious nervousness, a quiet sense that she no longer had anything to prove, and it pleased Remus so much to see.

_What an adult she's become, what adults they've _all_ become, Hermione, Harry, Ron, Ginny, Padma… Teddy_…

_I'm glad I got the chance to see them like this. Whatever happens next, I'm so very glad to be given that much of a gift_…

As he settled into his new seat at the front, he felt Dora's hand clasp his and gently squeeze. Her dark eyes met his for an eternal instant, filled with worry, fear, frustration and anxiety, but before he could summon up the strength for a wan smile, Matilda's voice broke the brief quiet once more and drew both their gazes elsewhere.

"The Wizengamot have debated the facts before us." The Head of Magical Law Enforcement seemed to be making a point of trying not to stare in the direction of anyone in particular as she addressed the room at large. "But before we take our final votes on both the matter of Teddy Lupin's restitution for his actions and on the matter of Mr and Mrs Lupin's presence here, I feel it only fair that those not present for our deliberations should be allowed a final statement to us. I will not-" one hand rose, forestalling Molly Weasley, who was half out of her seat "-admit personal recommendations or pleas on behalf of the accused or his parents." Molly dropped back down beside Arthur with an audible sigh. "I wish for only facts or suggestions, solutions to this difficult situation and reiterations of the theory behind it to clarify the matter in our minds. And when these statements are completed, the Wizengamot will vote. Who would speak first?"

Teddy was on his feet a fraction faster than Kingsley and Harry and Matilda acknowledged him with a wave of her hand. "Mr Lupin."

Remus could see that his son was trembling, his face still red and stained from his bout of furious tears, but his fists were clenched and his expression steely as he gazed out at the assembled ranks of the Wizengamot.

"I make no statement for myself." His voice was low, but carried powerfully. "I did disobey the law of the Time Division and use the Portal for my personal ends, resulting in the injury of a good friend. I admit that guilt openly and wish, that in regards to Penny at least, I could take those actions back. But my _parents_…" His voice cracked along the edges; but swallowing hard, Teddy stabilised himself and hurried on. "They did nothing but stand up to give their lives for the future we have today, a future without Voldemort, without Death Eaters and with far less fear. I brought them here without their knowledge or permission and they do not deserve to be punished for my actions. They deserve to _live_."

Matilda's face was pale and drawn. "Mr Lupin, I did say…"

"I know, I know." Teddy took a deep breath. "No pleas. But this is fact. I'm sure that there are those amongst you who have advocated returning them through the Portal to the past. Well, please, hear this. _There is no need_. I am an Unspeakable in the Time Division of the Department of the Mysteries and I have spent the last two years there steeped in temporal theory and debate. And as you know I have already stated, everything we've learned there tells us that history can only be changed onto the course that we remember. I know some of you will say that this is proof that my parents must go back and die at their appointed time, for history says they have. But I knew when I undertook this personal mission to save them that this was the case. That history either dictated I would fail or that I would _make it match_. There was no other way it could be." He straightened his shoulders. "So that's what I did. I made history match. I went _out of my way_ to make it match. I used Felix Felicis to make sure that my timing was perfect. I could not take my own wand through so I snatched my father's wand from him right there on that battlement and used it to cast a Replication Charm on them both before I brought them here. And as the case of Cornelius Fudge has just proved, it's not easy to distinguish a replicated corpse from a real one. It was a battle. There were fifty corpses in that hall, so who would take the trouble to look closely at just two? They were buried within three days so no one ever saw the spell degrade. _That's_ history. _That's_ what happened. History is safe. They don't _need_ to die for _real_." His eyes hardened noticeably. "And I can prove it. Exhume the two bodies in those graves. You'll find spell residue, not corpses…"

"Madam Breakspear!" Sproule's harsh interruption jolted Remus out of his respectful appreciation of his son's statement. "That is absurd! After all this time, there'd be no way…"

"You've _had _your say!" To Remus' astonishment, it was Teddy who was first to retort, even ahead of Hermione, Harry and Kingsley, all of whom were on their feet. "_Shut up_ and let someone else…"

"_Order_!" Matilda's ringing exclamation brought silence as she glared down at the prosecutor. "Mr Sproule, Mr Lupin is quite correct. You've had your say. These are statements, not debates. And Mr Lupin…" The Head of Magical Law Enforcement's voice softened distinctly. "I'm sorry, but Mr Sproule is also correct. I've been in Law Enforcement for forty years now and I know every forensic spell in the books. After twenty years, it would be incredibly difficult to determine what is the residue of replication and what is a decayed body. Without magical embalming being applied before burial, any body hit by a traumatic spell such as the Killing Curse will degrade much faster and more completely over the following few years than a normal body would. We exhumed the _body _of Cornelius Fudge but after so much time has passed, we would never have known for certain that it wasn't once a human being without the evidence of your Time Division. We can detect traces of magic – be it from a Killing Curse, a body thrown through a Floo or from a replicated corpse – but we can't distinguish between them. I wish we could. It would make this case a great deal simpler. But it was a good thought, and I thank you for offering it." Matilda's expression was one of compassion as Teddy closed his eyes, his chin dropping to rest against his chest. "Do you have anything else to add to your statement, Mr Lupin?"

Teddy shook his head slowly, his eyes slowly rising back upwards to face his judges. "No. Just so long as you all understand and appreciate what I've said to be the truth. They _don't need to die_. Please, _please_ remember that."

Matilda nodded quietly in return. "Thank you, Mr Lupin. Take your seat."

As Teddy dropped back into the chair of the accused, his eyes lifted briefly to where his parents sat. Remus saw Tonks give her son a genuine smile of gratitude and he was quick to echo the gesture. Teddy smiled back, albeit wanly.

Matilda had turned to the risers behind where Remus and Tonks were seated. "Minister? Mr Potter?" she queried. "I believe you both had something to add?"

Harry and Kingsley both exchanged a long look, before Kingsley politely gestured to Harry to speak first. Nodding with what Remus couldn't help but note was discomfort, the Head of the Aurors came slowly to his feet.

Madam Breakspear," he said quietly. "Members of the Wizengamot. I want to back up what Teddy Lupin just told you – that his parents don't need to die in order for history to be as it should." He allowed himself a brief sigh. "And what's more, if you're willing to take my sworn word both as an Auror and as your Chosen One, I can prove it to you. Because something else happened to me on the night of the Battle of Hogwarts, something I've never told anyone but my closest friends about. And it's one thing that really would have been different if Teddy hadn't done what he did."

_Oh Harry_….

Mutterings were breaking out across the Wizengamot, but Remus ignored them as he turned sharply in his seat to face his son's godfather.

"Harry, you don't have to," he said quietly. "I know how personal that is to you…"

Harry's lips quirked. "Not as personal as it _was_," he replied wryly. "Given I'm no longer the only person alive who was _there_."

"Mr Potter," Matilda's quiet intrusion yanked Harry's gaze away. "Are you willing to explain?"

"I am." Harry squared his shoulders. "I can't guarantee you'll believe me, but I got used to that when I was fifteen years old. It's never stopped me before." His eyes fixed upon the ranks of the Wizengamot and held. "I'm sure you all know the story of The Three Brothers from Beedle the Bard. And I'm certain that most of you will recall that the Elder Wand put in an appearance during my final battle with Voldemort." The mutterings rose sharply in pitch. "Well, what's less well known is that Professor Dumbledore had an interest in the Deathly Hallows. The wand was his until Voldemort took it. And after he died, he made sure that I was left the Resurrection Stone."

Muttering turned to exclamations as several members of the Wizengamot came to their feet in astonishment but Madam Breakspear, in spite of her own amazement, still had the wherewithal to turn and hush them. When silence had fallen once more, she gestured at Harry to continue, her expression a mixture of incredulity and intrigue.

Breathing heavily, Harry took a moment before moving on. "I don't have it now – I threw it away a long time ago and I'll never tell a soul where I left it, so don't even think about asking. But when I went into the forest to confront Voldemort, I had the Stone with me. And when I needed to find the courage to go on…" He closed his eyes for a moment, clearly still finding the memory of that walk to his death quite difficult to bear. "I used it. Like the legend says, it doesn't bring the dead back to life in the strictest sense, but it did bring a semblance of those I loved to me – my parents, my godfather… And _Remus_." He laughed softly, slightly bitterly at the silent incredulity on the faces that surrounded him. "I know what you're thinking – I was under a lot of stress, hallucinating. And I've wondered that myself over the years. Until last week. Last week, when I talked to Remus and found out for certain it was _real_."

He shook his head slowly, glasses sparkling and catching the light. "You might think I'm mental for saying all this. And even if you believe me, you're probably thinking it's proof positive that Remus has to die so he can be there. But the thing is, he _doesn't_. Because what Teddy's not mentioned here is that saving his parents wasn't as straightforward as pulling them through the Portal. For Tonks, it worked fine. But Remus got _stuck_."

Remus fought a shiver at the memory of the red light squeezing and tearing at his body, trying its utmost to pull him apart inside and out. A part of him couldn't help but wonder if Harry's summons had been the only thing that had saved his soul from being torn away that day, that it had kept him safe just long enough for his friends to push him back into his body and out of the Portal…

But Harry was moving on. "And while he was stuck, Remus remembers being in that forest with me, my parents and Sirius Black. No one told him about it. He knew things that only I could have known, that I've never told anyone. So there, you see? I'm sure you'd agree that's one thing saving his life should have changed, if that were possible. But it didn't. He's even managed to be _dead_ without _dying_." Harry smiled softly. "History's fine. _They're_ fine. Leave them be. They've been through enough already."

The silence echoed profoundly as Harry dropped back into his seat. For several moments, even Matilda was at a loss for words before she finally adjusted her robes, cleared her throat and stood once more.

"Thank you, Mr Potter," she managed, slightly shakily. "That was a most…interesting insight. Well." She shook herself firmly for good measure. "Minister?"

As Kingsley rose carefully to his feet, his smile was almost rueful. "I'm not quite sure how to follow that," he admitted dryly and Remus was encouraged to note that a number of the Wizengamot actually chuckled. "But I intend to try. I think both Teddy and Harry have shown quite emphatically that history does not demand the deaths of two innocent people, two people who fought long and hard for the freedom we have enjoyed these past twenty years. But there is another reason that may have been given for sending them back, the reason so poignantly demonstrated to us by Dennis Creevey. What will happen when word of this miracle gets out? What will we say when others ask us why their loved ones cannot be saved?"

There were guilty shiftings amongst the Wizengamot that told Remus this had indeed been the primary concern of many of its members. Silently, he wished Kingsley good fortune in dispelling their doubts, but he had to admit, deep down, that it was not an easy task.

"The straightforward argument to many of those people would be that the death was witnessed." Kingsley's gaze, as it raked over the Wizengamot, was austere and, Remus suspected, very deliberately Ministerial. "The technique Mr Lupin used relies on no one bearing direct witness to the moment of death. But there will still be many who make claims, and if Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks stand alive before them, they will want to know why they cannot share in the same. And so, to hide this potential disaster, you would see them die again even though you know in your hearts they do not need to."

There was a distinct hint of squirming in certain corners of the Wizengamot now. Kingsley had hit a nerve.

And the Minister for Magic knew it.

"So I say to you; with the might of this Ministry behind them, would it be such a chore to hide two people, one of whom has the natural advantage of being a Metamorphmagus? Would it be so inconvenient to us? Are two lives worth avoiding a public outcry?" He straightened firmly. "I am willing to take personal responsibility for keeping them hidden and safe. If the truth ever comes out, I will take the blame. I admit it's likely that the time Portal will have to be destroyed to ensure no repeat of this, and that will be a great blow, both to our criminal investigations and our knowledge of history itself. But with it gone for good, would it really matter if the truth were to emerge? Can knowledge and potential outcry really be worth two innocent lives? I don't believe so. And on your own consciences be it if you do. That's all I have to say."

Again there was silence, this time highly uncomfortable, as Kingsley took his seat once more. Several members of the Wizengamot appeared to be staring at their shoes like scolded schoolchildren, but several others, notably old Tertias DeWinter, looked moderately outraged.

_Oh dear_…

Kingsley's words had hit home amongst many. But being told off by the Minister could only breed resentment amongst the more recalcitrant of their number.

_Hermione's right. This could go either way_.

"Very well. Thank you Minister." Matilda Breakspear's gaze swept the room once more. "Does anyone else have anything to add before we proceed to the verdicts?" Her eyes lingered on Remus and Dora's faces for a long moment. "Mr Lupin? Mrs Lupin?"

He felt Dora's hand squeeze his once more as she sat forward.

"I don't want to die," she said plainly. "Not like this, anyway. But that's not up to me anymore, is it?" She quirked an eyebrow as several Wizengamot members resumed their squirming. "But what really matters here is the future, not the past. So please, go easy on Teddy." Her eyes were rich with pleading. "Don't punish my son for wanting to know the parents who should have raised him. I regret not being there for him until now and I always will. And if I have to die, I rather die knowing he's going to be okay." She gave a wan smile. "That's all, really."

Matilda was regarding her with a mother's sympathy shining in her eyes. But she made no comment upon it when next she spoke. "Thank you." Her eyes flicked to Remus. "Mr Lupin?"

Remus sat upright. "I've stated my wish that any punishment you would give would fall upon me and not my family." He winced as Dora's fingernails dug into the back of his hand. "But if I repeat that now, I suspect my wife and son will do away with me long before Dolohov can." There was a distinctly uneasy chuckle. "Other than that, I echo my wife. Teddy's what matters to us. Whatever you decide we will comply with as long as he is not severely punished."

"Very well." Matilda nodded gently. "If that is all that you wish to say, then the time has come for the Wizengamot to vote."

It was as though the entire room tensed. The air seemed to thicken until it almost seemed to Remus that he could rise from his seat and walk across it, suspended above the floor. Teddy was rigid, grasping the arms of his chair as though to wrench them away. Hermione's shoulders were a solid block and he could hear the rapid breathing of several sets of lungs up behind him. Dora's grasp upon his hand tightened once more, as he felt her lean into his shoulder and rest her head against him.

"On the matter of Teddy Remus Lupin." Matilda's voice seemed to reverberate around the room even more than it ever had. "The original charge was Intention to Pervert the Course of History. There are many ways in which this charge could be interpreted. But I think, under the circumstances now revealed, that it is clear that Mr Lupin had no intention to alter history in favour of Lord Voldemort or anyone else. If you agree with me on this point, please raise your hands."

Remus let out a breath he hadn't even realised he was holding as all bar a couple of the plum-robed figures raised their hands in agreement. Across the courtroom, Remus saw Sproule slam one fist against the table in frustration and permitted himself a moment to smile. The prosecutor's original intent, to accuse Teddy of trying to save Voldemort, had been thwarted.

"However." The solemn intonation of Matilda Breakspear chased the smile rapidly away. "Mr Lupin is guilty, by his own admission, of breaking the cardinal rule of the Time Division and using a powerful magical object to fulfil his personal aims, resulting in the serious injury of Madam Penelope Weasley. On this charge then, of wilful negligence and blatant misuse of Ministry property, do you find the defendant guilty? Please raise your hands."

Remus closed his eyes. Every hand was raised.

But then he'd known it would happen. He himself was the proof of it.

_Go easy on him, please go easy_…

Matilda, whose hand was also raised, turned slowly to face Teddy. The young man was pale but his face was set.

"Counting the Minister for Magic as an abstention," Matilda stated firmly. "By a vote of forty-nine to zero with one abstention, Teddy Remus Lupin is found guilty of wilful negligence and blatant and deliberate misuse of the Ministry's Time Portal. As Head of Magical Law Enforcement, it falls to me to pass sentence." Her tight-lipped expression did not give Remus great cause for hope. "And I must state first and foremost that I believe it imperative that Teddy Lupin be separated from the temptations of his workplace. Forthwith, you are removed from your position in the Department of Mysteries and shall not be permitted to work or indeed enter there again at any point in the future."

Teddy's head dropped into his chest instantly, one hand rubbing against his forehead as his lips twisted with definite pain. Remus felt his own grimace fall into place. He knew how much his son had loved that job.

"And as for official sanction." Matilda's continuation drove Remus' heart even further down towards his stomach. "I'm afraid in a matter as serious as this, I cannot allow the accused to leave this court without a custodial sentence. Therefore, Teddy Remus Lupin, I commit you to six months imprisonment in Azkaban."

_Azkaban_… As Remus squeezed his eyes shut, he heard his wife's hiss of angry horror, heard the gasps that rose behind him. As he forced himself to look up, to stare at his son, he could see the fear upon his face, but there was resignation too and a tired acceptance that this was the way it had to be. And though it stabbed Remus like a knife through the heart, as he met his son's eyes, he knew that Teddy still believed he deserved it.

"You call that going easy?" The exclamation came from Dora – snapping his head around, Remus was just in time to prevent the half-started leap to her feet. Even as he pulled her down, Matilda Breakspear met her furious glare with cool, quiet compassion.

"I call it very easy," she replied softly. "When the sentence I first considered was in _years_. And we must move on. To you, Mr and Mrs Lupin, and what is to be done."

_Oh Merlin_.

Dora was back in her seat now and her fingers had crept up from his hand to grasp his arm and although she gave little outward sign, he could feel the slight tremble of her hand against his sleeve, see the fear that roiled like a maelstrom in her eyes as she glanced from him to Teddy and back again.

Dora was terrified.

And so was he.

He'd faced death before. But not like this. Not in a courtroom, awaiting sentence like a criminal. Death had always been at the barrel of a wand or the rising of the moon, the snap of teeth in a dark forest or the terrible squeeze of crimson light. He'd never had to sit in helpless silence and wait for it to come.

He would face it straight and true, if that was how it had to be. Even knowing it was unnecessary, pointless, he knew he could do it if it had to be done. But watching Dora die as well, waiting to watch Dora die…

_I don't know if I can do that. I've fought so long to keep her safe. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't afraid of death, but I'm more afraid for her than for myself_…

"Mr and Mrs Lupin are here out of their time." Matilda's voice, so strong before, was suddenly uncertain. "And their presence leaves us with a very grave dilemma. Is their death necessary to the course of history, or is the past already safe? Must we be forced to send two innocent people, two war heroes, to their deaths in order to preserve what we have? Or can they remain here, in spite of the risk of outcry and chaos their presence may invoke? That is the decision we face. I have never been asked to pass a death sentence, much less on two people I know to be innocent of any crime. But if needs must, I shall have little choice but to do it. So, to vote. Members of the Wizengamot, in your opinion, is it necessary to return Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks to the past in order to ensure the true passage of history? Please raise your hands if you believe the answer to be yes."

_Half. _That was the instant thought that crossed Remus mind as he stared at the forest of hands. _It's about half_.

Madam Breakspear counted carefully – Remus tried to make a count himself, but from his angle he could not get a clear view. And then, the hands were gone.

Matilda's chin was jutting firmly. "And those in favour of letting them remain?"

More hands, _half again of course_, _bloody hell_, raised towards the ceiling, including Matilda Breakspear's own brief gesture. Carefully she counted and gestured again. The hands dropped.

"We are a few votes short." There was an odd tremble to Matilda's tone. "Counting the Minister as one once again, are there any other abstentions?"

Three hands were raised into the air. Three members of the Wizengamot, it seemed, were unwilling to face such a terrible choice.

"Very well." Oh Merlin, Matilda was trembling for certain now, was that good or was it the worst? "The Wizengamot have spoken. By a vote of twenty-four to twenty-two, with four abstentions, we rule…" She swallowed hard, her eyes drifting with sorrow, horror, and Gods, _regret_ towards Remus and Tonks. "We rule that history must be protected. Remus and Nymphadora Lupin are to be returned to the past from which they were removed. And there, it pains me to say, they must die."


	24. Facing Fate

_**A/N: **_This will be my last update until after Christmas - I've now used up the very last of my completed chapters so from now on it'll be as and when I manage to write, I'm afraid. But I didn't feel I could leave the story where I left it right before Christmas so here's the next chapter for you. Much gratitude must go to Snorkackcatcher my beta reader for his suggestion for the Switching Spell and his invaluable advice on the chapter ending.

_**23: Facing Fate**_

It was morning.

Remus knew it without even opening his eyes. He could sense the light that must be streaming through the gap in the curtains to stain his eyelids, could hear snatches of morning birdsong beyond the half-open window. And he could feel Dora's warm body curled snugly against him, her legs tangled around his, her cold toes brushing his shins, her fingers soft against his back and her hair, bright pink, he knew, and tousled, tickling his neck and chin as she shifted in her sleep and buried her face deeper into his shoulder.

He could picture her face, the look of peace, the half-hint of a dream-smile teasing her lips as she snuggled against him, her skin smooth and flawless in the soft morning light, her hair a tangled, chaotic mess for which he was a good part to blame. He'd woken to that beautiful sight so many times before.

But now he couldn't bear to look, couldn't bear to open his eyes and see the sight etched so clearly in his mind's eye. He couldn't bear to see it and know that this would be the last time, the last time he would see her there, the last time she would sleep so peacefully in his arms - that they had made love together for the last time in their lives.

For this morning, by the ruling of the Wizengamot, they were both about to die.

No. He couldn't open his eyes. Opening his eyes would make it real.

A week had passed since the trial's ruling had effectively rendered him a dead man walking. Hermione had spent the first few days afterwards working like a fiend to compile a suitable appeal against the ruling; but when the panel of three randomly selected Wizengamot members chosen to decide whether or not an appeal would be heard most unfortunately turned out to include Tertias DeWinter and Achilles Kingross, the outcome was obvious. The request for an appeal was denied.

And so Remus had found himself, along with his wife and son, technically under house arrest. Teddy's jail sentence had been postponed on compassionate grounds until after his parents had faced their fate, but the condition of this short reprieve was that he was magically tagged in order to prevent him moving more than one hundred yards in any direction away from his family home. Remus and Tonks, at Matilda's regretful request, had agreed wearily to abide by a similar restriction and remain with their son at Winter Hollow. Visitors were permitted, but of course only those already in the know were able to come, for Matilda Breakspear had imposed a jinx called the Vow of Silence over proceedings - in other words, those present at the trial were only permitted to speak with others in the same situation about all they had seen and heard in that courtroom. Anyone who broke the restriction would be instantly struck dumb, and would remain mute until the Department for Magical Law Enforcement - who would be instantly alerted - allowed it to be lifted. Hermione, who'd been considering an _accidental_ leak to the press in the hope of an outcry from Remus' former students and Tonks' old friends, found this doubly frustrating – not only had her plan been thwarted, but she'd created the spell for the Vow from an old DA jinx, and had personally suggested its use to Matilda several years before. She'd ruefully been forced to admit that she'd been hoisted on her own petard.

The question now remained – what exactly were two people supposed to do under house arrest when they had only a week to live? Remus had done the best he could and Dora had quickly joined him, playing games, reading, and just talking with his son, with Harry and Ginny, Ron and Hermione, Kingsley, Molly, Bill and Arthur. Teddy had vanished into the garden with Victoire one morning, and it had been with wry amusement that Dora had reported hearing the words "…if you think you're breaking up with me over some stupid jail sentence, think again Lupin! You're not getting rid of me that easily! And if the words _for your own good_ even _think _about crossing your lips, I _swear_…" echoing from behind a nearby bush. Like father, like son, she'd dryly remarked, and added that Victoire had now most _definitely_ got her motherly approval. Just like his father, Teddy needed a woman who wouldn't let him get away with being a_ bloody martyr_.

And so they had talked. Teddy had told them every little detail of the last twenty years he could remember, his school days, his Christmases with Gran and Harry's family, parties with the Weasleys, his first kiss, his first date with Victoire. Andromeda had clung to Dora, showing her photos, talking about Ted and Teddy, just grasping those last few mother-daughter days with all the strength they could. Harry had told Remus all about his family; his Marauderesque son James, who lived up to his namesake's reputation so enthusiastically, his younger son Albus with his determination to do right, and little Lily, another brilliant little redhead just waiting for her chance to shine. He talked of his pride and mild envy at Ginny's Quidditch career, the joy he found even in the worst days of his job, and simply how content he was. And as he talked, he smiled.

Remus was so happy for him. No one deserved that kind of peace more that Harry Potter.

But beyond simple family conversations, one piece of positive news had arrived in their weeklong incarceration. Molly had reported with profound relief that Penny Weasley had started to recover from her coma and had been slipping back into consciousness several times a day. Finally, yesterday, the Weasley matriarch had happily reported that Penny was awake, sitting up, and asking coherent questions about her department, the Portal and just what on earth was going on. Percy had already applied to Matilda and Kingsley for permission for his parents to breach the Vow and fill both himself and the Head of the Time Division in on recent events, and the last Remus had heard, they were still waiting on an answer.

Teddy's relief had been painfully palpable. His son had slumped into a chair with his face in his hands and all but sobbed when Molly had delivered the news of his friend's improvement – he had sent a letter back with Molly almost begging Matilda and Kingsley for permission to see her himself and apologise before leaving for his term in jail. The answer had yet to come but Remus fervently hoped it was positive.

It had been a difficult, a long, drawn out and painful way to say goodbye to those he loved, made unavoidable by the Portal's slow repair, the forging of fresh hourglasses, the rebalancing of spells. But all along there was Dora, sticking to his side as much as she could, smiling at him, touching him, kissing him with passion in every moment they spent alone. It had been the very night after the trial, when they were both still half-reeling from what they had to face, that she had clung to him, held him and whispered that she wanted them to make love again for the first time since Teddy's birth, that she was sure, that she was ready, that she wanted it so much it almost burned her soul. And Remus had no wish to refuse her. He wasn't sure he could have refused her even if he'd tried.

And so every morning for that so-long week, he had woken and seen her face, half-smiling, pressed against him, hair pink, body warm, the wife he loved more than anything held within his arms. And each morning he'd known that it was one less moment they'd share.

And this was the last morning. The last moment. The last time.

How could it be the last? How could he never wake to this wonderful sight again? How could the world roll on regardless if Dora was not in it?

It wasn't right. It wasn't fair.

He'd seen so much life. She'd seen far too little. Regardless of his fate, she deserved to live.

But she wouldn't. This was her last day alive. _Their _last day.

And there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it.

He would never, if he'd lived a thousand years, have given up the chance he'd had to see his son as a grown man and meet the fine adults his favourite students had become. And a part of him couldn't help but feel shamefully glad of the fact that he'd never have to face another agonising night beneath the glare of the full moon. But it would have been so very much easier if his life had been snuffed out unaware on that battlement twenty years before.

Against his skin, he could feel Dora twitching, shifting, her hands flexing, her head rubbing against his shoulder. She was starting to wake up.

_And if you don't open your eyes now, Lupin, you'll never get to see her at peace again_. _You'll only see her sorrowful and afraid_.

For a moment, Remus breathed deeply, allowing the air to fill his lungs, to brace him for what was to come. And then he opened his eyes onto the last morning he'd ever have to face.

-----------------

It was with a kind of grim inevitability that Nymphadora Tonks had watched the last hours of her life stream away too fast. Such things always did.

She'd woken to find Remus staring down at her and the love and warmth and sadness in his eyes had hurt her heart, yet all at once had melted it like snow in the winter sun. She'd reached up to touch his face, to stroke her fingers through his hair and they'd kissed and kept on kissing until a subdued, reluctant knock at the door had roused them back into the horror of the real world. With a face more steeped in misery than any Tonks had ever seen, Teddy had peered around the door and told them that the Weasleys had just arrived to say goodbye.

And so it had begun, their last goodbyes, spoken this time with the force of knowledge, with the inescapable truth of death upon the other side. Due to the potentially distressing nature of what was to occur inside the Portal chamber, Matilda had decided that, outside of those present in an official capacity, only immediate family would be given permission to bear witness. Both Harry and Hermione had successfully argued their way in to an unresisting Matilda - Harry to watch over Teddy, who was technically a criminal, and Hermione in her capacity as independent legal representative, to ensure that the sentence was carried out as humanely as possible – but Andromeda, pale faced and shaking, had respectfully declined. Her chin raised, her eyes a maelstrom, she had told Matilda that she had seen enough of her daughter dead to last her a lifetime.

And so it came as no surprise to Tonks that, once she and Remus had dressed quietly in the same clothes they had worn in battle and headed downstairs, she had found her mother, clothed formally in black velvet robes, seated in the living room with a small influx of solemn Weasleys.

All come to say goodbye. Forever.

It had been the most painful hour of Tonks' life.

One by one, she'd hugged them, held them, a succession of red hair pressed against her face, of tears and soft farewells, of mutters about injustice and the stupidity of the Wizengamot. All had taken their turn; Bill with his chin set grimly against his scarred features, Arthur quietly shaking his head as he stepped wearily away, Molly sobbing uncontrollably until her husband had been forced to lead her gently to one side. Ron had sworn fluently about DeWinter and his ilk as his shoulders shook, and Ginny, although her eyes told a story of the same anger, had merely held them both for a moment, before clenching her fists and stepping away. Victoire had surprised them both with the fervour of her embrace before she had moved over to wrap her arms around Teddy and hold him tightly until it was time for her to go. And then, one after another, each with a backward glance of tears, of rage, of sorrow, the Weasley family had stepped outside and gone.

And through it all, Andromeda had remained silent and still upon her chair, waiting for her moment, waiting to face her daughter and her son-in-law and say her final goodbye.

And Tonks' heart twisted and tore so violently at the thought of it that she could barely stand to breathe.

_Mum. My mum. How can I say goodbye to my mum? How can I see her say goodbye to me?_

_This can't be happening. Please, it can't._

But it was.

She had watched as her mother rose gently to her feet, watched as she stepped forward towards Remus, took his hand, spoke softly to him, pulled him into a gentle embrace. Remus had returned the gesture with affection, had smiled quietly, sadly, nodded as she thanked him for being part of her family, acknowledged the strength of her acceptance with open gratitude.

And then, Andromeda Tonks had moved away from her son-in-law and turned to face her daughter.

And everything became too real.

Tonks had no idea how long she and her mother spent crushed in each other's arms, both sobbing unashamedly as they clung to one another almost desperately, trying to still time and close out the world, to make the truth disappear and fate change its mind. Somewhere, distantly, at the back of her mind, she heard Remus and Teddy discreetly make their exit, but in that instant, she didn't care, she couldn't care about anything but the woman who'd birthed her, raised her, loved her, defied the evil of her family to give her life and keep her safe. She'd already lost so much. If death was inevitable, Tonks knew that she had little choice but to accept it, but the pain it would cause her mother to lose her again was almost too much for her to bear.

And Teddy, the last of her family, was about to be sent to Azkaban. How could the world be so cruel to a woman who'd done nothing but defy the wrongs of the world she was born into?

_Oh, mum_….

But she was no longer a child. Her mother's embrace no longer has the power to hold the world at bay.

And so, when the knock at the door had sounded, when Harry and Achilles Kingross of the Wizengamot had stepped into their home and grimly announced that the time had come, Tonks had little choice but to ease herself out of her mother's arms and step away.

And the moment that door had closed behind her, the moment she had stepped out of the house that should have seen the rest of her life pass by and left her mother to weep alone, Tonks felt her heart shatter. Her legs all but gave way – only Remus' quick reactions kept her from plunging to the ground, and the grasp of his arms was the only thing that kept her upright long enough to reach the perimeter of the wards in order to Portkey to the Ministry. But as the familiar yank and squeeze of Portkey travel dragged her away from her home and her mother, one thought burned against Tonks' mind.

_If it was this hard to say goodbye to mum, how the hell am I ever going to manage it with Teddy and Remus?_

And the honest answer was that she didn't think she could.

---------------

"You can't, Harry."

Oh, Hermione. Why do you always have to make so much sense? 

Those last words of his dear friend rang through Harry's head as he walked down the path from Teddy's house with that utter bastard Kingross a half step ahead, Teddy at his side, and Lupin half carrying poor Tonks just behind him. He supposed he could have just gone ahead and done what he'd been considering without having to face up to Hermione's voice of reason, but somehow it hadn't seemed right to make a plan like that without telling someone, and Hermione had happened to be there when the idle, desperate thought had solidified into a half-dose of necessary resolve.

Matilda had asked him to go with Kingross and bring the Lupins back to the Department of Mysteries via Portkey. And the thought had assailed him all at once – could he change the destination of the Portkey? Could he take them somewhere else, hide them, keep them all safe? All he'd have to do was knock Kingross out and…

That was about as much as he managed to voice before Hermione reluctantly but sensibly put the brakes on his flow of words. He couldn't, she'd said simply. For one, he'd be arrested for assault and flouting the ruling of the Wizengamot, an Azkaban offence of some magnitude, and Ginny and the children would hardly appreciate his arrest and incarceration. Secondly, Ministry Portkeys were carefully charmed against tampering – he wouldn't have time to make any changes. And most importantly of all – did he really think that Remus would let him sacrifice his freedom on his account?

He couldn't, she'd told him, sadly, wearily and with resignation. And curse it, she'd been right.

And so, just as it was supposed to, the Portkey had deposited them directly into the Portal chamber, under the Portal's waiting glow.

"…Listen, Croaker, I've already got Chaudhry, Zeller, Brightwell and Fortescue on a final warning for refusing to show me how this damned thing works. You people have been shilly-shallying all week about fixing this thing to the point where it can do what we asked of you, and Chaudhry's been muted twice for trying to spill the beans! Now, I'm rapidly losing my patience with this division. I am Head of the Unspeakables whether you like it or not, and if you don't get over there right now and set that Portal up _exactly_ as you've been told, I am going to _close _the Time Division for good and fire every damned one of you! Now _move_!"

Harry grimaced. Although there was no doubt that Aloysius Sproule was currently heading his personal hit list, Tertias DeWinter was _very_ close behind him.

The bony old Unspeakable apparently felt the same – shooting DeWinter's now turned back a look of utter loathing, he started across the chamber, muttering vehemently under his breath as he brushed past Harry.

"Head of the Unspeakables, _my arse_! If you spent more time in the Department rather than swanning off abroad on your personal projects and leaving poor Edgar Fortescue to pick up the slack, maybe you'd have a bit more respect around here! You arrogant, obnoxious, malicious…"

The muttering dried up rapidly as the older man's eyes fell upon the solemn form of Teddy waiting a few steps further on. His eyes darted rapidly over to the pale-faced Lupin and to Tonks' tear-stained cheeks before slipping back to his colleague. His lip twisted.

"Lupin, I'm so sorry," he whispered hoarsely. "I don't want to do it. But he's going to close the Division if I don't. He's already threatened to sack Rajesh…"

"_Croaker!_"

Croaker cast a brief look of death over his shoulder in the direction of DeWinter's bellow before turning his attention back to his young workmate. Teddy's smile was a thin, wavering line. "It's okay, Bert. I understand. It's not your fault."

Bert Croaker sighed deeply. "Thanks for saying it, lad. But it doesn't help much."

And then, with a final glare in the direction of DeWinter, who was expounding on some point or other to Achilles Kingross, Croaker turned and moved over to the Portal. His bony fingers reached out and moved the hourglasses into place, one by one, each in turn.

And to Harry, each one seemed a death knell in the life of two of his friends.

He glanced over towards the Lupin family again. Both Kingsley and Hermione had appeared and were shakily saying their goodbyes, Kingsley catching Tonks in a rough embrace and Hermione wiping her tears as she leaned into Lupin's shoulder. Matilda was standing a few steps behind them, her face a battleground of emotions; guilt doing war with duty, sorrow fencing with resolve. She'd voted against the death sentence, he remembered, and in her eyes was a shiver of horror at what was about to unfold, but other than a brief, single glance in his direction that whispered with the frustrated helplessness that Harry himself was fighting to contain, she made no acknowledgement of her thoughts.

And then suddenly, Remus Lupin was at his side, smiling wanly at him, his teacher, his mentor, his _friend_. He was the last true link that Harry had to his parents, the last of the Marauders to be flung beneath the cruel heel of fate. He had taught him to fight the incarnation of fear itself, helped him beyond measure as he learned how to defend himself from the inevitable, and given him the strength to find the courage to go on and face his own death for the good of the wizarding world. He was a good man who'd fought a long war against the world, the Death Eaters, against the pull of the moon, and his own fears.

He didn't deserve to die like this.

"Remus," he said softy. "I'm so sorry."

The gentle smile was painfully familiar. "Harry, you of all people have nothing to be sorry for."

Harry couldn't help but shake his head. "You've done so much for me and I've never really thanked you."

Lupin gave a quiet laugh. "I always felt I didn't do _enough_. You've nothing to thank me for. If I did make any small contribution, then the man you are today stands as more than thanks enough. And you looked after my son, Harry. There isn't enough gratitude in the world to express my thanks for that."

Harry could feel the damp pressure welling behind his eyes, but he would be damned if he was going to let himself cry in front of the likes of Tertias DeWinter. "You don't deserve this. Either of you."

Remus' smile was softly ironic. "Now there's something I've heard all my life. I never really deserved to be bitten. I'm sure I never deserved to lose my friends. And I certainly haven't done enough to deserve my _wife_." His lips curled slightly bitterly. "I'm used to it by now. This is the way it has to be. At least this time it's not something I'll have to _live_ with."

Harry closed his eyes against the waves of bitter pain that assailed his chest. "Remus…"

"I'm sorry." Harry opened his eyes once more as he felt Remus' hand come to rest gently against his shoulder. "I shouldn't…" He shook his head. "Harry, there is only one thing I really want to say to you." He took a sharp breath. "_Live_. Enjoy your family, enjoy your work, enjoy your _life_. Because _nobody_ deserves that more than you do. And please… _Teddy_…"

Harry nodded. "I'll look after him. I'll make sure he doesn't blame himself."

Remus closed his eyes for a brief moment of apparent relief. "Thank you."

Harry managed a smile, albeit a sad one. "Thank _you_. And give my love to Sirius and my parents. Because we both know they'll be there waiting for you."

For a long moment, the two men merely stared at each other, Remus' hand on Harry's shoulder tightening into a grasp. There was no further need for words.

"Minister. Madam Breakspear. Mr DeWinter." The voice of Bert Croaker broke roughly into the silence, sharp edged and almost forced. "The Portal is ready."

--------------

Teddy was sure of it now. He was going to be sick.

Somewhere away to his left he could hear the voice of Matilda Breakspear quietly replying to Bert's words, but the specifics eluded him behind the dizzying, sickening buzz that had filled his mind and the knife-sharp pain that stabbed his soul.

Because it was time.

Time for him to lose his parents once more.

He remembered vividly the horrible sensation of loss that had filled him when he had watched his parents' death for the first time so many weeks before. It had been the first time that they'd been more to him than pictures on the mantelpiece and someone else's memories, the first time he'd looked at their faces and seen two people that belonged to him.

And then, he hadn't even known them.

He'd never spoken with them, argued with them, laughed with them, held them, seen the love in their eyes as they smiled at him and each other, seen them so happy to be together, seen them fit so well into each other's lives and then back into his as though they'd been there all along. They hadn't been real people back then.

They were now.

And the pain he'd felt before was a drop in a storm-tossed ocean compared to the excruciating agony of this.

_My mum. My dad._

_I have to watch them die again. And this time it's forever_.

_And they know it's coming. No quick oblivion like it would have been before, never even knowing they'd been killed. They've had to watch it coming and wait. And that's all _my_ fault_.

He could feel the tears welling in his eyes once more, although he was amazed to find he had any left after the events of the last few weeks. The red glow of the Portal as it spluttered into life seem to stain the chamber like crimson blood and made his stomach roil.

_Oh Merlin_…

And then suddenly he was caught within a warm pair of arms, pink hair pressed against his face and he all but dissolved into weeping as he lost himself in his mother's embrace. He grasped her robes and clung to her and he could feel her body shaking with sobs once more just as it had when she'd held Gran. The smell of her surrounded him, such a simple thing that he'd never known until a few weeks before, and she smelled like home, like love, like everything he'd ever wanted from a family.

She was his _mother_.

"I love you, mum." The words escaped from his lips almost unbidden, but he felt her arms tighten, felt her shoulders tense as she pulled him even closer against her and held on for dear life. "I love you _so much_."

"I love you too," he heard her murmur, the whisper cracking and breaking around her tears. "My darling Teddy. My _little boy_."

And then his father was there too, wrapping his arms around both of them, engulfing Teddy completely as he pressed his greying head against theirs, added his scent and his feel to the mix and Teddy breathed it all in desperately, trying to imprint their smell, their touch, their sound upon his memory, frantic that he should never forget how it felt to have them here, real, in his life. He'd had them for less than a month but he was determined that he would never, ever let himself forget.

And there were words he had to say to his father too, words that needed to be said.

"I love you, dad."

He heard his father's voice cracking as he replied. "I love you too, Teddy. I love you too."

It was a moment that Teddy wanted to make last forever.

But it had to end. There was no choice.

And as they all pulled apart, he stared into their faces, memorising the lines of his father's features, his mother's expression, every little change and quirk that he could find that made them real, that made them his. His mother tried to smile, her face wet with tears as she reached out and traced her fingers down his own sodden cheek, staring at him with the same intensity he could feel behind his own eyes.

"You'll be all right, Teddy," she said softly, her voice wavering painfully. "Six months is nothing and you've still got Harry and your Gran. But you hang onto Victoire, do you hear me? She's just what you need, that girl, and you're just right for her." Her lips twitched. "Even your father knew when it was time to stop being a noble prat and just accept love for what it is. You make sure you do the same."

Teddy nodded quietly, remembering the fight in the garden a few days before, remembering Victoire's fierce determination, and his mind flashed back to his days spent stalking his parents' past, to the same fiery determination splashed across the face of his mother. If a stubborn woman had her heart set on loving you, history seemed to suggest it was a good idea to let her.

He loved Victoire so very much. He couldn't bear to hurt her. If she wanted to wait for him to get out of prison, that was her decision. He had no right to make it for her.

His mother must have seen the decision that dawned within his eyes. Her smile was like the rising sun.

And then he was facing his father, who smiled at him so warmly, so gently, so lovingly as he stared down at his son.

"Take care of yourself, Teddy," he said, his voice quiet but carrying powerfully. "And I want you to remember above all else that this _wasn't your fault_. I am so grateful to have had the chance to meet my son _the man_ and I am so very proud of you. Even given how it's ended, I wouldn't change these few weeks for the world."

"Mr Lupin." Matilda's voice was filled with regret. "Mrs Lupin. I'm so sorry. But it's time."

He couldn't stand. He was going to fall, to collapse in a heap, and if Harry had not at that moment placed his arm firmly around his godson's shoulder, Teddy felt sure he would have tumbled straight down to the floor. To one side he could see Kingsley Shacklebolt watching his parents as they moved across the room, his face set like stone, his eyes stormy. He could hear Hermione sobbing somewhere behind him, but it all seemed unreal, like a dream; he slumped into Harry's grasp and watched his parents, as he had done so many weeks before, as they played out the last great moment of their life. Tertias DeWinter was already waiting beside the Portal, his wand drawn, the incantation for the Switching Spell that would fly through the tear in the Portal's field and exchange the two fake corpses for the real thing lingering almost lovingly on his lips. Bert, his reluctant part played, had already retreated to stand by the impassive Kingross, as Matilda Breakspear read once more the ruling of the Wizengamot.

And he saw his parents, stood holding hands just as they had been in the instant he'd hauled them out of the past in the first place, staring into each other's faces, seemingly all but oblivious to Matilda's words and DeWinter's waiting wand. He saw his father mouth a simple _I love you_, saw his mother mouth the same in return, saw them lean together, their lips meeting, ignoring DeWinter's snort of disdain as the kiss between them deepened, lingered and finally broke. They stared only at each other as Matilda, pale and wan, stepped reluctantly away to allow DeWinter to come forward, his wand raised and aimed into the Portal's scarlet maw. His lips parted…

------------------

_This is so wrong_.

The thought refused to leave Kingsley alone. It had battered him throughout the sentencing, harassed him throughout the agonising week long wait to get this far, and now it was screaming in his brain, demanding that he stand up, that he shout the words out loud, that he put a stop to this travesty before it was too late.

But he didn't. He couldn't.

Because it was no longer his decision to make.

And never in all the twenty years he had spent as Minister for Magic had Kingsley Shacklebolt ever felt so powerless.

And so he could only watch in impotent anguish, as Tertias DeWinter raised his wand and pointed it into the glowing maw of the Portal, and opened his mouth to say the incantation that would end the lives of his two dear friends once and for all.

He could see their faces, washed in crimson light. He could see their love and their pain.

And he knew then that there was no way he was going to be able to watch.

Kingsley closed his eyes.

"_Permuto_!"

That was it. He heard the Switching Spell strike the Portal with an audible fizz and, eyes still closed, he waited in pain for the harsh thud as two lifeless fake corpses replaced the two living breathing souls, for the declaration that it was done, that Nymphadora Tonks and Remus Lupin were no more.

But it never came.

Instead came a pop. And then, there were sharp gasps, and the voice of Tertias DeWinter once more sounding vividly into the silence.

"What the _bloody_…? _Permuto! Permuto_! What _is_ this? Why is _nothing_ _happening?_"

Kingsley's eyes flew open. He saw shocked faces, confused expressions. And best of all, _oh yes_, _thank you Merlin_, he saw Remus and Tonks still standing holding hands, bewildered but most distinctly _alive_ in the centre of the chamber.

DeWinter and Kingross looked furious. Matilda and Bert looked amazed. But dawning slowly across the faces of Hermione, Harry and Teddy beside him was just the tiniest hint of _hope_.

"It didn't work!" The sound of DeWinter's fist slapping against his robed leg startled everyone. "It _didn't bloody work_! That damnable Portal _ate my spell_!"

A slight hint of a smile was spreading across Hermione's features as she stepped hurriedly forwards. "Well, Mr DeWinter, I would say that that is all the signal we need to show that history does not demand that innocent lives be sacrificed! By the temporal theory of your Unspeakables…"

"_Chaudhry_!" DeWinter's exclamation cut sharply into Hermione's speech, viciously squashing her words. "Get Chaudhry in here! He told us this would work, he lied before the Wizengamot! I'll have his bloody hide! I'll…"

"He theorised!" Hermione was not to be silenced, it seemed. "He theorised, under threat of his job, and he was wrong! Obviously the magic can't travel through the raw expanse of time after all. You can't blame…"

"This is going to be done!" Spittle was flying from DeWinter's lips now – Kingsley had never been a fan of the man but he'd never until now considered he might be downright unhinged. "The Wizengamot _ruled_!" He took two harsh strides forward and caught Tonks' arm in a vicious grasp, all but hauling her over. "If I have to throw them through that Portal myself…"

_That_ was the limit. Kingsley had already half-stepped forward, when he saw Matilda's expression of fury, and realised that Harry was already two steps ahead; but Remus was far closer, catching hold of DeWinter's fingers and yanking them away from his wife as he shoved himself in between them, his expression rich with uncharacteristic fury.

"Don't you dare lay a hand on…"

"Remus, his wand, don't let him…"

"Mr DeWinter, this is out of order!"

"Get your hands off them right now or you'll answer to me!"

Voices were rising, fists were waving, wands were being drawn. Things were getting well out of control.

_I have to put a stop to this, I have to calm them down, I_…

"_Wait!_ WAIT!"

For half an instant Kingsley wondered if he'd shouted out loud, if the words screaming in his brain had slipped out of his lips. But then he realised that the door had banged open and a figure had careered into the room, breathless, robes dishevelled, his glasses askew, his red hair chaotic as he slumped with his hands on his knees and gasped desperately for air. And then he heard Hermione's voice split the sudden silence.

"_Percy_?"

And it was. Percy Weasley, his Senior Undersecretary, hauled himself back upright, flushed and panting, to face the gallery of bewildered faces that stared at him from all across the room. His nose wrinkled.

"I'm sorry," he gasped, slowly, carefully bringing his breathing back under control. "I'm so sorry, Minister, Madam Breakspear, for just bursting in like that. But I had to. My wife _begged _me and I had to…"

He broke off, still struggling to get his breath back as Kingsley caught Matilda's eye and exchanged a long, bewildered look with her. DeWinter on the other hand, looked even more infuriated.

"There's _no excuse_!" he roared, his voice echoing painfully throughout the chamber. "How dare you barge into a closed Wizengamot proceeding without so much as a by your leave? How did you even get in here?"

"Tertias." Kingsley's voice was clipped but it nonetheless put an end to DeWinter's rant. "I'll deal with this. Percy, if you've got your breath, I'd appreciate it if you would explain yourself."

Percy nodded, his glasses wobbling perilously on his nose as he glanced around the room. His eyes lingered for a moment on Remus before slipping back to his boss.

"Minister," he declared formally (and under any other circumstances, Kingsley might have laughed to see such formality in the wake of such an entrance). "I've come here straight from St Mungo's, from the bedside of my wife. As I'm sure you know, Penny came round properly for the first time yesterday, and this morning Madam Breakspear gave my parents permission to breach the Vow and tell us both what's been happening. And so they did." He squared his shoulders and there was something in his voice, in his stance, that made Kingsley breathe again with some kind of _hope_. For surely, _surely_ Penny would not have asked her husband to make such an extraordinary journey if she didn't have something vital to explain…

"The thing is," Percy's voice was now mostly level once more. "The moment we told Penny about what had happened with the Portal and Professor Lupin and his wife, she told me I had to get down here and tell you that she needs to speak to you all right away." His gaze shifted to the glowing crimson of the Portal. "Because before you do anything _irreversible_, there's something that she needs to say."

**A/N**: I thought about leaving the chapter at the previous paragraph break, but I decided it'd just be too mean. See, I'm not all bad...:)


	25. Threads

**A/N: **I'm in a bit of a rush but here we go at last with chapter 24! I'm so very sorry about the delay but illness has done me over royally for the last few weeks. If it makes you feel better, the epilogue is now written and will only be delayed by the need for beta changes. I'd like to thank my beta **Snorkackcatcher**for spotting a steaming plot hole which I have patched as best I can and to my Merry Band who helped me work out a lot of the bumf below way, way back when this monster was in its infancy. I'd also like to thank **stupidpename** for his/her nice attempt to bump my review count over the 1000 mark (bless your heart, that's lovely of you :) ) and I believe someone offered to do a translation as well (I can't find the review at present, so I'm afraid I don't have a name) which is fine by me as long as you let me know what people make of it. :) Oh and **mimosa** asked about the name DeWinter and where it was from and the answer it's a name I liked that is found in two well known books – _The Three Musketeers_ and _Rebecca_. And now, brace yourselves. Reefs of Exposition lie perilously in front of your bows...;p

_**24: Threads**_

Penny Weasley was used to waiting.

She had spent years waiting to see her dreams of non-intrusive time travel realised before the eventual creation of her precious Portal. More than a little time had passed as she'd waited for Percy to realise that there really was more to life than his work. The nine months spent waiting to become a mother for the first time had, some days seemed to be lasting forever. And, of course, she remembered vividly the terrible wait to discover if everyone that she loved and cared about had come out of the Battle of Hogwarts alive.

But no wait had ever seemed as long as this one.

"He must have made it in time." Molly repeated the words for the fourth time in as many minutes, her hands grasping a handkerchief that was slowly being wrung into a twisted knot by the anxious motions of her hands. "He'd have been back by now to tell us if he hadn't. _Surely _he'd have been back by now…"

"Molly, calm down." Penny watched as Arthur placed one hand on his wife's shoulder, his voice soothing, but she could see the fear and anxiety waging a war with desperate hope in her father-in-law's eyes as he sighed. "It'll be fine. I'm sure of it."

"But if they've done it, if they've…" Molly's fretting stalled at the awful prospect that filled them all with dread. "What if we were too late? If we'd asked for permission to tell Penny yesterday, if we'd found out what she knew before…"

Penny closed her eyes, trying to ignore the uncomfortable dizziness and aching limbs that her plagued her ever since she'd finally managed to battle her way back to a conscious whole. She needed no reminders of the toll her secrecy might exact. Why hadn't she told Teddy about the research she'd started when he'd innocently told her about his odd experience in the Portal? Why hadn't she left her notes at the office where Rajesh or Edgar might have found them, rather than locking them away in a private drawer at home? And why, oh why, had she been so stupid as to step into the Portal when she'd been able to feel in her bones that something about it wasn't right?

_Idiot! I am such an idiot! _

And now the lives of her former teacher and his wife, two war heroes, Teddy's parents, were on the line because of it.

She wasn't sure she could wait much longer. If Percy didn't arrive soon…

"Oof!"

The bed gave a sudden lurch as Percy stumbled out of mid-air and smacked hard against the footboard, wincing sharply as he dropped the book that had apparently served as his Portkey onto the bed with a thud. Rubbing his thigh, he righted himself, straightening his glasses and pulling his robes back into order with a fastidiousness that Penny usually found rather endearing. But in that anxious moment, the delay made her want to scream.

"Percy!" Luckily, Molly had no more patience on the subject than her daughter-in-law. "What happened? Did you make it in time? Are they all right? Is Kingsley going to come and…"

"Mother!" Percy raised his hands, and then Penny could see the slight smile on his face that told her as much as a beaming grin, and swamped her from head to toe with utter relief. _He made it, it's not too late, I can put this right_… "It's fine! Professor Lupin and his wife hadn't been sent through when I arrived, and so I passed on Penny's message and they've stopped the proceeding for now. They'll all be coming here by Portkey in a few minutes' time. I've been sent ahead to make some room – after all there'll be seven extra people here and this hospital room isn't all that big…"

The rest of his sentence was drowned out by Molly's cry of relief. Launching herself out of her chair, she flung her arms first around her husband and then around her son, before slumping back into her seat with her hankie clutched to her face.

There was a brief pause while both Weasley men, their hair now ruffled and their glasses comically askew, shared a brief, near identical look of bewildered affection. And then, as one, they set to work shrinking the furniture.

"What took so long?" Arthur beat Penny to the question by only a few moments, as he reduced a pot plant and a cupboard to doll's house proportions with a wave of his wand and bent to pick them up. "I wouldn't have thought getting to the Department of Mysteries from here would take more than five minutes at the speed you were going when you left, but it's been more than twenty minutes now."

Percy pulled a face as he leaned over and pecked his wife affectionately on the cheek, before apologetically reducing her bed in size by a good third. Penny pulled herself up against the reduced headboard as she tapped her toes against the footboard and tested her now lessened space.

"There was a bit of trouble." Opting to leave his mother's seat alone, Percy gathered the shrunken furniture and placed it safely on the side table. "Tertias DeWinter kicked up a fair bit of fuss."

Penny felt herself grimace. DeWinter. There was no part of herself that could pretend she liked the man – he spent very little time tending to the department that he had supposedly run for so many years, and had some ideas about what was natural and what was not that had never really fitted the ethos of the Unspeakables that had evolved later and almost in spite of him, under the management of his deputy Edgar Fortescue. She knew from Percy that Kingsley Shacklebolt was no real fan of his either, but keeping DeWinter on had been a concession to the Ministry old guard in the delicate days following the Battle of Hogwarts, and the Minister for Magic had never quite found a good enough reason to suggest he might fancy retirement. The older man was a stickler for the rules, and regarded anything out of the ordinary with a highly suspicious eye. Penny had always suspected that he had joined the Department of Mysteries in the first place because he fancied taking unusual creatures – and people – apart to find out what they were made of.

"What happened?" Wincing against the soreness of her body, Penny shifted against her now reduced bed. "What did he do?"

Percy frowned grimly. "He wouldn't accept it when Matilda Breakspear said she was putting the proceedings on hold until she'd heard your new evidence. He kept insisting that the law was the law and justice had to be served. In the end, he went into a bit of a rant about how unnatural this all was, and how it had to be put right no matter what. He started threatening the professor with his wand then, and the Minister had no choice but to ask that he be removed." He smiled slightly. "Somehow I have a feeling that you might finally be getting a new boss, darling. Even Kingross looked appalled at his behaviour when he escorted him out, and he's one of his oldest friends."

"I can't say I'm sorry." And she wasn't, not by a long, long way. "Trust him to make trouble."

"That's all clear." Arthur was glancing around the room as he moved back to join Molly, who was now smiling as she tucked her handkerchief away in one of her many pockets. "How long did they say they'd be?"

"Just a few minutes. The Minister had to go and sort out DeWinter, and since Ministry law states that no convicted prisoners may be moved out of Ministry premises except in the presence of two accredited law enforcement professionals, they'll have to wait until he comes back. Harry can't come alone and Matilda and Hermione don't qualify. And Kingsley Shacklebolt might be the Minister now, but he's still officially a qualified Auror. They don't need to send for anyone else."

Arthur looked thoughtful. "I wouldn't have thought Remus and Tonks would count as convicted criminals."

Percy shrugged. "Officially they don't, although circumstances have dictated they be treated as such. However, Teddy does."

"And they'll accept Penny's findings, won't they?" It was Molly who spoke, glancing between Penny and Percy with an almost pleading expression. "They won't go back on this now, surely, not once they understand. They'll let them live when they hear the truth, won't they?"

Penny and her husband exchanged a glance. "I hope they will, Molly." Penny said softly. "Because if they don't, it'll be a hideous mistake and I'll do everything I can to keep that from happening."

Percy was nodding as he moved to lock the door, although he didn't look completely certain – in his rush to halt proceedings, he hadn't heard as much of his wife's reasons for intervening as his parents had. "Madam Breakspear is renowned for her fairness and she'll make the final decision. As long as the evidence is clear…"

And then suddenly, the room was full. Muffled yelps, gasps, and the sounds of seven people abruptly finding themselves with limited space to manoeuvre were punctuated by a brown-haired young woman with a heart-shaped face tumbling, with arms flailing, across the much reduced bed. From her position slumped across Penny's legs, she glanced up and offered a wan smile.

"Sorry!" she exclaimed with a certain amount of resignation. "That was ruddy inevitable really, but I hope I didn't hurt your legs…"

"Come on, Dora. Up you get." A pair of arms were reaching down, helping the young woman to sit, pulling her to her feet, and Penny found herself staring, starting at the sound of the still strangely familiar voice and a face impossibly unchanged even after more than twenty years…

"Professor Lupin," she said softly.

He was just the same. She'd known that was the case, of course, known intellectually what had happened, but it still seemed bizarre to see him standing there as though he'd just stepped out of her NEWT Defence class, fresh from giving a talk on curses or testing their skills at defensive spells. It was always strange to see a teacher out of context, away from the classroom where they almost seemed to live in a student's eyes, but to see him in her hospital room, twenty years out of his time…

He smiled, the same friendly smile he'd always used. "Penelope. It's good to see you again. And I think we're a little past _Professor_ now. Please, call me Remus."

"Well, _Remus_, it's good to see you too." Penny smiled in return, in spite of the strangeness of addressing a former teacher by his first name; even at over forty years old, it still seemed slightly _wrong_ somehow. "Especially considering I thought I might be too late…"

"Which brings us to the point." Matilda Breakspear had squeezed herself to the fore, settling rather awkwardly between Arthur and Kingsley Shacklebolt; Harry and Hermione were side by side at the end of the bed with Percy by the door, and Lup… _Remus_ was standing with Teddy and the brown-haired young woman she presumed must be his wife to the left of her bed. "Your husband said you had fresh evidence to present that had the potential to alter our ruling that Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks must return and die as history says they did. Is this correct?"

"It is." It was time to focus. Penny forced herself to try and steady the dizzy wash in her head, braced herself to concentrate as she straightened her thoughts and the points she needed to make in her mind. She felt rather than Percy smile at her encouragingly, and took the strength she needed from his unspoken support. She might have married a man who could be pompous and self-righteous to the point of aggravation at times, but he always came through when it counted.

"First and foremost, I would like to make a statement as Head of the Time Division." Bracing her aching shoulders, Penny turned to face the Minister and the Head of Magical Law Enforcement, well aware that the words that followed had the potential to cost her her job. "And Minister, I need to protest, in the strongest possible way, about the liberties that have been taken with my department in my absence. Had I been present, I would _never_ have permitted even the idea that the Time Portal that I have devoted my life to creating could be used as an instrument of _execution_. It is not the Death Chamber, and if the Wizengamot truly has decided for the first time in centuries that it wants someone dead rather than just soulless, then they should either push them through the Veil or use the Killing Curse upon them. But _do not_ seek to use my Portal as an excuse for potential murder. I won't have it, Minister, Madam Breakspear. I simply _won't_."

Matilda Breakspear had gone very pale, her jaw locked grimly as she stared at Penny, her expression difficult to read. She cleared her throat. "I understand how this might look to you, Madam Weasley," she said, her voice low but steady. "But this was not an execution. We were merely seeking to restore history to its proper state. And although I am not convinced of the verdict myself, the Wizengamot has spoken. The protest of one Unspeakable, however senior, will not change that fact."

Penny felt herself sigh deeply. It was so, so difficult to make anyone who did not work in the department grasp the intricacies of temporal theory. It was no wonder so many of the Wizengamot had chosen not to try and understand, to hide behind the excuse of history to prevent an outcry.

"The word of this Unspeakable is different." Penny prayed that the confidence of her tone contained no hint of the turmoil of worry that lay beneath it. "Because I'm not bound by your Vow of Silence yet. I say the idea behind these deaths is unnecessary and cruel and I can say that to whomsoever I choose. I know you wanted to avoid an outcry, and I'm pretty sure a good number of those who voted in favour of the idea this barbaric action were thinking about that when they cast their votes. But that is so very wrong and I know better than anyone how wrong it is to say that they must die by any means." Penny fought to keep the pleading note from her voice – she had to maintain her professionalism, but it was so difficult to argue a case she knew had been rejected once before on pure ignorance. "I know the case for history was argued and argued well in the hearing, but I cannot stress enough that history cannot be damaged if these two people remain in the here and now. Everything I have heard of what Teddy has done tells me that he took every precaution to make things right. He could not have succeeded if he hadn't. This is the truth that must be acknowledged, that the Wizengamot must be made to understand. You cannot talk of killing two innocent people as a precaution because of a theory you don't completely understand. Well, I understand it, and I know that history can be no excuse. I'm sorry to be high-handed, Madam Breakspear, but I know more about this case than anybody else does and I _will_ be listened to. Even if I have to go to the _Prophet _or the_ Crucible_…"

The mention of the press chased the last hint of blood from Matilda Breakspear's face. "But…the people!" she exclaimed. "There would be chaos! Half the witches and wizards in Britain would be beating a path to the Ministry demanding we resurrect their loved ones!" She gave the smallest hint of a glare. "Your Portal would have to be destroyed to prevent anarchy. The dead walking every street…"

Penny slowly shook her head. "They can beat as much of a path as they like, Madam Breakspear. And maybe the Portal will have to be destroyed." The words stabbed like a dagger at the very thought, but two lives mattered more than a life's work when all was said and done. "But it doesn't have to be, because their demands can't be met even if we wanted to." Her eyes shifted to Teddy, who was holding his mother's hand tightly and watching Penny speak with an almost desperate hunger. "What Teddy did that night was a freak occurrence that is almost completely unrepeatable. The risk that it will happen again is so small as to be infinitesimal. If anyone but Teddy Lupin had tried to do what he did, they could not have succeeded. If he'd tried to rescue any other person than he did, they would not have been saved. They could not even have survived." Penny fixed her gaze onto the Minister's hopeful expression and Madam Breakspear's tense countenance and smiled. "The chance of this succeeding was one in a million. It just so happened that by a fluke of nature, Teddy beat the odds."

"_Metamorphmagus_." Hermione's voice was filled with a sudden understanding and Penny fought to conceal the flood of relief that someone other than herself had grasped the truth. "It worked because Teddy is a metamorphmagus, didn't it?"

Penny nodded firmly. "And because Nymphadora is. I…"

"Tonks."

The interruption startled Penny out of her train of thought. "Pardon?"

Professor Lupin's brown-haired wife, although looking slightly apologetic, remained unabashed. "It's Tonks. My name? Please don't call me Nymphadora – it reminds me of the vindictiveness of my mother against small, squalling infants who'd never done her any harm. And Mrs Lupin just makes me sound all boring and respectable."

Remus chuckled at her declaration. "We can't have that, can we?"

The young woman – Tonks – nudged him almost playfully. "You know damn well that if I was boring and respectable, you'd never have married me. And you can shush now because this isn't the time." Ignoring the way her husband's lips worked in silent protest, Tonks frowned thoughtfully and turned back to Penny. "As for this metamorphmagus thing… It's because of the red light, isn't it? The way it squeezes you? I remember feeling at the time that if I'd been anyone but me, it would have pulled me apart." She shot a glance at her husband, who had gone oddly pale, his eyes suddenly far away. "Just like it nearly did to Remus."

It was an excellent layman's summation and Penny was grateful for it. "That's it exactly, Tonks, thank you. It has to do with the nature of time. The passivity field was designed to make us passive parts of history, unseen watchers of historical events, but it is also the only thing that protects us from the raw power of time itself on the step from one timeframe to another. Time-Turners employ a similar effect, although the protection lasts only for the length of the journey – that is why the chain of the device is placed around the neck, to contain the person or persons it carries and them alone. Without that field, we would be engulfed in time itself. The field must follow the person it protects, but it is bounded by the limits of human movement and cannot be broken by them. It cannot extend beyond a certain point because the timestream itself will not permit it. It was thought that the field was infallible, and that breaking it and venturing into the timestream itself simply could not be done." Penny sighed, glancing over to where Teddy still stood beside his parents. "A while ago now, Teddy came to me and told me that he had felt the field was close to breaking after he had morphed whilst visiting the past. I immediately began an investigation and the results alarmed me. When I studied early experiments with Time-Turning, I found stories of people physically ripped apart by the journey, and of bodies being found minus their souls. Until the art of self-protection was learned, the early days of time travel were filled with gruesome death. I even went back and watched these experiments for myself via the Portal. The stories told of people killing their past or future selves come from these times; one man, Igor Ludavic, found a grotesquely splinched man outside his village and put the poor soul out of his misery. It was only months later, after he attempted to travel back in time and was never heard from again, that his brother checked this unidentified victim's effects and realised that the splinched man had been what was left of Igor."

A shudder went around the room and Penny couldn't blame them – after seeing Igor's mangled remains that day, she hadn't been able to touch stew for several weeks.

Teddy was regarding her with uncertainty. "Did you think that might happen to me if I broke the field?" he asked quietly. "Or did you always know I'd be safe?"

Penny looked at the young man, so innovative and impulsive, who'd caused so much trouble without ever meaning it to be so. "I wasn't sure at first," she admitted. "That's why I banned you until I'd investigated, although perhaps I should have taken pains to stress possible dangers as well." She smiled and Teddy smiled uncertainly with her. "But I began to suspect you alone would be able to take the stresses and strains of it when I learned it was a metamorphmagus who invented the Time-Turner. He alone was able to survive the trip in order to learn the cause of all the accidents and find a solution to them. It seems that having an adaptable physiology is the key to surviving unprotected time travelling. Time is the great bringer of change and it cannot contain the static. Unless the physiology of a person can adapt instinctively to the shifting power of time around it, like metamorphmagi can, they will be… well, the best phrase I can think of is _time-splinched_." She shuddered, remembering the drag of the light, her body screaming and her soul pulling, dragging itself out of her body. "Just as I almost was."

A hand grasped hers almost fiercely – she looked up to find Teddy's pale face and pleading eyes staring at her intensely.

"I'm _so sorry_," he whispered, his voice cracking slightly as his jaw shook. "Honestly, Penny, I had _no idea_ that what I'd done had caused that kind of damage to the Portal. If I'd had any notion that you were going to be so badly hurt, I…"

"Teddy." The slow press of her free hand against the back of his stilled the flow of frantic words. "It's all right. You couldn't have known what would happen. Really, it was my own fault – if I'd involved you in my research, you would have understood the dangers. And I still can't believe I was so stupid as to step into that Portal. I knew the dangers, I knew the field had been damaged, and like an idiot, I stepped right in anyway. There was no one to blame for the accident but me. It wasn't your fault, Teddy. I don't blame you at all."

Penny wasn't sure that she had ever seen quite so much relief on one face. He almost looked ready to burst into tears with it as he nodded quietly in unspoken – probably unspeakable – gratitude and stepped shakily away.

"There are easier ways to confirm your theories than almost getting yourself killed." Penny realised her voice was shaking, but there didn't seem to be much she could do to hold it back as the memories of that awful sense of separation she had experienced dragged at her mind. "I rather wish I'd found one. But my accident in the Portal proved to me that my theories had been absolutely right. I'm told that I was in a coma, but the truth of the matter is that it wasn't that simple at all. When I stepped into the Portal and the field snapped for a second time, I was subjected, body and soul, to the most terrible forces. My body was severely battered but my soul was what I nearly lost – I could feel myself being dragged out of my body and all that kept me together was a tiny thread, a little piece of protection left over from the temporary field that Rajesh had managed to re-establish. Without that, I would be dead now. And my unconsciousness was not because of my injuries. That was the time it took me to pull myself properly back together again, and I felt every moment that I spent straining to be whole until I woke."

She hadn't seen Percy cross the room, her eyes fixed upon the fold of bed-sheets and blankets in her lap, but she knew his hand the moment it took hers and she glanced up smiling at him, drinking in the reassurance that she was here, she was alive and whole and safe. She breathed deeply for a moment, trying to recover herself before she looked up at her former teacher. One glance at his eyes told her everything she needed to know.

"And from what I've been told," she said quietly. "As a non-metamorphmagus, you had a similar experience, Remus. It's a miracle either of us survived it. I can only assume that perhaps your werewolf physiology – a body that is used to change, even if it is forced and painful – may have had something to do with it. I don't know the cycle but perhaps if the full moon was close…"

"The change in the cycle!" Teddy's exclamation silenced Penny's verbal musings – she glanced at the young man to find his face lit up with realisation. He turned at once, glancing between his father and his boss as though seeking both of their approvals.

"I bet that's it," he said with enthusiasm. "When Dad came back, he found his body was out of sync with the cycle of the moon, and it took him days and all sorts of nasty symptoms to readjust. There was vomiting and shaking and he even passed out after…"

"Teddy, please." Remus raised one hand, his expression torn between amusement and discomfort. "I don't think anybody really wants the details."

"Sorry." Teddy had the grace to look a little abashed. "But what if that's what happened when he passed through the Portal? His body, for a moment, was trying to adjust to two moon cycles at once. It probably tried to make changes. Maybe that slight physiological alteration was enough to keep him whole…"

"That might be the reason I managed to get out." Remus was nodding slowly, although his eyes still looked distant. "But I experienced the same thing as you described, Penelope – I felt as though my body was being pulled apart. And I remember my soul being dragged away as well…" He closed his eyes for a moment.

"You know, I think I understand now. I think I was_… time-splinched_, did you call it? I think my soul was pulled out of my body altogether. And it would probably still be in there – if it hadn't been for Harry."

Penny saw the Head of the Aurors start and stare at his former teacher at the mention of his name. His face too was filled with sudden understanding.

"The Resurrection Stone," he said softly. "When I called you…"

"It gave me a direction." Remus' voice sounded so very far away and Penny could relate to the feeling, the sense of detachment, the drift, the helplessness and distance that stood between her separated soul and being herself once more. "It reminded me who I was. And seeing James, Sirius and Lily…" He seemed to shake himself. "They pushed me back, or seeing them made me go back, I'm not sure which. That's why I was all there though when my body was thrown out of the Portal, instead of my soul being left behind. Because you called me, Harry." He smiled, his features tinged with a kind of grateful disbelief. "You saved my life. Just by asking for me, you saved my life."

Harry's smile was equally bewildered, if happy. "Glad to be of service."

Penny didn't pretend to have a clue what they were talking about. Molly and Arthur had mentioned some strange experience that Harry had cited in the trial as happening during the Battle of Hogwarts, although they hadn't given her much detail. But it sounded intriguing. Perhaps they would allow her to conduct an investigation…

Matilda Breakspear's voice interrupted her academic musings. "So Madam Weasley, you're saying that only a metamorphmagus could have pulled someone out of the past? And that only another metamorphmagus – or an extremely lucky werewolf - could be rescued?"

Penny nodded firmly. "And I'm sure you'll agree, the odds of anyone being able to cite an example of someone they want to rescue who fits those criteria is exceedingly slim. Excepting his mother, Teddy Lupin is the only metamorphmagus in wizarding Britain. There have been no more than a dozen metamorphmagi per century throughout wizarding history. No one else would stand a chance."

Matilda's thoughtful frown was both promising and disconcerting. "It certainly does put a different slant on things – one of the primary concerns of the Wizengamot was the possibility of it happening again. But are you absolutely sure that history will not be damaged if they do not return?"

Penny battled not to sigh. _Oh, for a world in which people listened and understood_…

"History _can't_ be damaged," she repeated again. "Those two fake bodies are part of history as we know it in the way the real Mr and Mrs Lupin no longer are. I understand you were going to try and exchange them for the real thing with a Switching Spell?"

"Actually, DeWinter had already tried it." Molly's gasp almost drowned out the rest of Hermione's sentence. "But it didn't work, thank Merlin."

"It won't work," Penny stated firmly. "It _can't_. You can't cast a spell across time. Even without the magical dampening effect of the field, time itself would simply consume any magic cast into it via the Portal. Unless they were retrieved by hand, which wouldn't be possible for anyone but a metamorphmagus anyway, those two fake bodies are staying exactly where they are. And all the Felix Felicis in the world couldn't compensate for the fact that the millionth of a second timing that would be required to remove those bodies and place Mr and Mrs Lupin back in exactly the right spot to both receive the same Killing Curse without bumping into Teddy as he made the original exchange is simply not possible. Putting them back would require an unworkable plan for an unnecessary act. It can't be done. And since there is no great mystery as to why Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks left two corpses on the battlefield, I think it is safe to say that no one even tried. And therefore no one will."

For just a moment, Penny found herself fixed with an enormous smile courtesy of the Minister of Magic. But Kingsley Shacklebolt swallowed his outward joy quickly, although the corner of his lips maintained an upward curl in spite of his otherwise serious expression.

"Well, Matilda," he said, his deep voice quiet but carrying powerfully. "I'd say this puts a whole new light on things, don't you? And there certainly seem to be grounds enough for an appeal, if Hermione would care to make a submission for a second hearing."

A smiling Hermione was already rummaging in the battered old beaded bag that she always seemed to carry. "I've probably got the paperwork in here if I can find it. Penny, if you're free to sit down with me to go through it all again…"

Penny almost laughed. "I think I can spare the time, under the circumstances."

"And I'm sure the outcome will be very different." Penny couldn't help but wish that Matilda would stop frowning. "Considering the original sentence is impossible to carry out. But I'm still concerned about public opinion. Perhaps if this matter was kept confidential and Mr and Mrs Lupin remained incognito…"

"But that's hardly fair on them, is it?" There was a distinctly truculent note to the voice of Harry Potter. "Living in hiding because you're worried about people kicking up a fuss over something they can't even have. You can't ask two people, two _war heroes,_ to live their lives in seclusion because you don't want to deal with the hassle!"

Remus was looking distinctly uncomfortable. "Harry, if that's what's necessary…"

"But it's not necessary, Remus." Having deposited a pile of paperwork, two clipboards, and a quill and ink on the foot of Penny's bed, Hermione rejoined the conversation brusquely. "All they have to do is say it was an accident. Teddy broke the field by mistake and was so overwhelmed by finding he might be able to save his dead parents that he acted on impulse to rescue them without even knowing it would work, albeit while having the wherewithal to replace them with fakes. It was a freak occurrence, a meeting of two metamorphmagi at different ends of history, that no one could have known would happen and that is impossible to repeat. You can say Remus was protected just enough by his condition, although he very nearly died and wouldn't have survived it if two metamorphmagi hadn't been travelling with him. Kingsley can make a statement and they'll believe him, I'm sure– he's deservedly had the people's trust for twenty years now, and that's a rare and valuable thing. Ginny can speak to her editor at the _Prophet,_ and make sure the story gets written in a way that makes it clear this isn't an option for anyone else. There's bound to be a few who argue but I think with Kingsley's word on it and the right coverage, most people will accept it, and if they think it was a fluke and he doesn't know how it was done, Teddy won't be badgered to do the same thing for anyone else. Remus and Tonks can go on with their lives as normal."

There was no mistaking the slight smile on Kingsley Shacklebolt's face now. "I think the lady has a point, Matilda."

Matilda Breakspear still looked a little uncomfortable, but there was a hint of a smile now in the corners of her mouth. "I think she just might. We'll have to handle this carefully…"

Kingsley began to grin. "I think we can do that."

"But under the circumstances, I have to agree. That is the best option for all concerned. We will hold an appeal and Penelope Weasley will give her testimony. We can use the Vow of Silence again to ensure discretion and…"

"Of course-" the casual, matter-of-factness to Hermione's tone drew immediate attention. "-that does mean you can't send Teddy to Azkaban."

The hint of a smile disappeared instantly off Matilda Breakspear's face. "Madam Weasley, whatever else has been established here, Mr Lupin still committed a serious offence. We cannot just…"

"But officially, it was an _accident_." There was something just a tiny bit glib about the look on Hermione's face. "He acted on impulse. How do you think it will look if the Ministry is seen to send a young man to prison for being involved in an accident and then impulsively saving two loved ones? Who out there wouldn't have done the same? It will seem very cruel. People might suspect that there has been some kind of cover up…"

"I see your point." Matilda looked a little annoyed as she regarded Hermione and her innocent expression with a raised eyebrow. "Mr Lupin's sentence will also be reconsidered during the appeal. But as to the matter of his employment… I think that will have to be left in the hands of his head of Division."

Which, of course, was her. Penny closed her eyes as she felt every gaze in the room shift in her direction. Teddy was an intelligent young man with a good grasp of history and an impressive work ethic – he was quick to grasp matters of theory and his interpretations of events he witnessed were impeccable. He was friendly and funny and she liked him very much.

But he'd lied to her. He'd used Unspeakable resources for his own ends and he'd endangered the lives of his colleagues because of it. When she had researched his ability to manipulate the field, Penny had also found a way to stop it from happening, but she had held back on that prospect because it would have meant that Teddy would no longer be able to enter the Portal and work in the field, for persons with adaptive physiology would necessarily be restricted from entry.

"It's all right, Penny." At Teddy's low statement, Penny opened her eyes to find her young friend's eyes staring down at her with a mixture of resignation and pain. "It's okay, I'll resign. I know that I don't deserve my place there any more."

Penny nodded quietly, internally ashamed at how relieved she felt. "I can restrict the Portal against this, stop it happening again, but it would have meant you couldn't use it anymore. Your fluid physiology wouldn't react well to the tightening of the spells. I'm sorry, Teddy."

Teddy smiled wanly. "Why are you sorry? It's my own doing. This is only fair." He glanced over his shoulder to where his parents were standing hand in hand. "And I think the price is worth it."

"Ummm… can I…?" It was Tonks who had spoken, her expression distinctly uncertain as she glanced around the room, although Penny could see that one hand had grasped her husband's in an almost deathly grip. "I just… I want to be clear on what's going on. You… you can't send as back, right?"

Matilda Breakspear nodded gently, her eyes suddenly warm. "That's correct. There will have to be an appeal, but under the circumstances, I can't imagine it'll be much more than a formality."

Tonks' free hand waved random circles in the air as she glanced up at her husband. "And you're going to go public on all this? Say it was an accident and Teddy acted on impulse so people don't fuss?"

"Indeed."

"And Teddy isn't going to jail?"

Matilda's eyebrow quirked in Hermione's direction. "I can make no promises on that. But most probably not."

"So…" Tonks' expression was incredulous, confused, almost shocked, her features pale, her eyes full of a vivid cocktail of half-disbelieving hope. "I mean… What happens to us now? To Remus and me? What do we do?"

"I think that's pretty straightforward, Mrs Lupin." And now, at last, Matilda smiled, a warm, friendly, compassionate smile that seemed to brighten the entire room and illuminate the happy, relived, excited faces of everyone within. "You simply _live_."

**A/N**: Well? Did you really, honestly, truthfully think I was ever going to do anything else? Come on, admit it... :) I know I twisty-turnied this fic a lot along the way but I started this with the intention of bringing Remus and Tonks back and giving them a second chance and by thunder, nothing was going to stop that happening! What, did you all think I'm some kind of sadist that would raise your hopes and them smash them again? ;p Seriously though, folks, I may have dangled you a bit along the way, but there was always going to be a happy ending because DH was more than angsty and miserable enough for Remus and Tonks. They needed a break and now they'll get one. :) And now there's just the epilogue to wrap this blighter up properly. :)


	26. Epilogue: Beyond the Portal

**A/N**: Well, this is it, folks. The final chapter. Time is up. ;p

For the final time, I shall offer up my profoundest thanks to the eight people I nicknamed my Merry Band for the invaluable help they gave me at the start of this fic in thrashing out plot, ideas and sticking points that enabled me to get the theory behind this fic to make some kind of logical sense. Without them, there probably wouldn't have been a fic and I'm most grateful that they rode in to my rescue when I was drowning in too many ideas and not enough solutions. My thanks, **AftertheRain, Celtmama, Drumher, Gilpin, Godricgal, Lady Bracknell, Mrs Tater** and of course **Snorkackcatcher **who foolishly ahem kindly offered his service as beta reader and proved invaluable in terms of spotting boneheaded errors on my part, assisting in the plugging of plotholes and of course, placing commas where no comma had gone before. I offer steaming great piles of gratitude to you all. :)

I don't think I'm done with this universe I've nicknamed the Portalverse yet - from my perspective it's preferable to the alternative for obvious reasons! - though I have no immediate plans for any further fics other than a few rough, unformed ideas floating around waiting for a good prompt. We'll see what that next **rtchallenge** and **metamorficmoon** jumbles on Livejournal bring, I guess:) I also have plans for a Find/Replace canon-ed up version of this to post on Live Journal (trust JKR to scupper me two chapters from the end by giving Percy a different wife!) where Penny becomes Audrey and the little Weasley kids fall into line with JKR's diagram but I can't say when and the only difference will be in the names anyway, so it'll hardly be the event of the season!

And so, here we go with the epilogue. Oh and a warning - anyone who disapproves of a nice, happy ending in which everyone gets what they deserve and everything is set to rights should probably look away now. Because I just couldn't help myself...;p

_**Epilogue: Beyond the Portal**_

When Remus Lupin came to look back upon those heady few weeks that followed the annulment of their fate, it was not the blur of so many faces he remembered most vividly, nor the bold, dark headlines proclaiming a miracle, nor the voices shouting questions, begging for answers or descriptions of how his miraculous return made him feel.

No.

It was the joy on his son's face. The warm grasp of his wife's hand in his. The smiles that blossomed over the faces of his friends.

And it was the _relief_.

His family was safe. They'd survived both the war and the perils of fear and bureaucracy; belatedly in the case of the former, it was true, but survival was survival and Remus was in no mood to quibble. He much preferred to simply live.

When he allowed his mind to drift back to that dreadful, euphoric day, what he mostly remembered was the emotion. The potent mix of fear, sorrow, and anger as he waited for the spell that would end his life and that of the woman he loved all as one. The confusion and bitter, desperately suppressed hope as the spell failed to succeed. His fury as DeWinter dared lay hands upon his wife, his bewilderment at Percy's arrival, and yet again, that agonising, frantically beaten back edge of hope as they'd been summoned to Penny's bedside to hear what she had to say.

He'd known, even as she spoke, that her words might change nothing. He'd struggled desperately to keep himself from feeling anything but blankness, flatly refused himself any edge of relief or joy because he'd seen his own fervent hopes dashed too many times before to allow himself that emotional commitment to something that could at any moment be ripped away. It hadn't been until Dora had spoken up to Matilda, had asked the questions he had dared not long for the answers to and then had turned, her face glorious, to embrace both him and Teddy as one that Remus had finally allowed his mask to slip and joy to fill his world.

He'd actually found himself struggling not to sob as he'd grasped his wife and his son in that hard embrace, burying his face into Dora's suddenly gloriously pink hair, and allowing himself to revel in the sensation of simply holding the two people he loved best and knowing he could continue to do so for years to come. By the time they'd been escorted home by a fiercely grinning Harry to await the pending Wizengamot appeal, he'd been so ridiculously, embarrassingly emotional that he'd almost struggled to walk through the door without help.

Dora – a living, breathing, given-her-life-back Dora – had laughed at him merrily, before pouncing on him for a hug and whispering how much she loved him and how happy she was that they were finally going to have time to be together. And then she'd leapt on a beaming Teddy and declared similar sentiments before cornering even poor Harry with expressions of love and gratitude that left the saviour of the wizarding world both dishevelled and a little the worse for wear. But he'd kept smiling. They'd all kept smiling.

The Wizengamot hearing, held two days later, had been a little more sobering. Just as Matilda had predicted, when faced with Penny's new evidence, the purple-robed witches and wizards had, with shamefaced unity, overturned their original sentence, and had also grudgingly commuted Teddy's six month jail term into a year of community service (an idea that Kingsley had cheerfully stolen from the Muggle world after his time with the Prime Minister's office), an unofficial dismissal from all Ministry positions, and a ban on working with any other manner of temporal magic in the future. Tertias DeWinter had not been present – he had not been seen in the Ministry since his violent, vitriolic outburst in the Portal chamber, and no more than a few days later, the announcement was made that he was retiring from his position as Head of the Unspeakables and retiring to Malaysia for his health'. Nothing was said out loud, but the straightforward grin on Kingsley's face the next time he saw them had told them all that they needed to know. It was, in fact, remarkably similar to the grin worn by both Harry and Hermione when Aloysius Sproule was dismissed from the Ministry with a memory modified to remove all reference to Teddy's trial a few weeks later, after being caught attempting to steal confidential documents pertaining to it and trying to breach his Vow of Silence. Nobody was even slightly sorry to see him go.

But it had been the day after the Wizengamot hearing, at the press conference Kingsley had called, that the real circus had begun. The revelation that two war heroes from the Battle of Hogwarts had appeared, alive and well, in the Department of Mysteries had, of course, caused quite a stir. The trust that Kingsley engendered and his reassuring assertions had meant that the story had been swallowed with the minimum of fuss, and although several distraught, desperate relatives had indeed arrived at the Ministry, begging for the same favour or a way to be found, all had eventually seen reason. The chaos the Wizengamot had so feared had failed to materialise.

Remus, along with Tonks and occasionally Teddy, had spent the next few days talking until his throat was even more hoarse than usual. There had been so many interviews – the _Daily Prophet_ had dispatched several reporters to find different angles, and its new-to-Remus yet decade-old rival, the _Crucible, _had done the same. _Transfiguration Today_ had requested that they join with Penny Weasley to write an article on this fascinating genetic quirk that had allowed their return, and Dora had enjoyed a casual discussion about wartime romance with an old school friend who now worked for _Witch Weekly_ that had resulted in an article so frank that Teddy had blushed scarlet and burned it. Remus, more than a little embarrassed himself, had been far more comfortable joining Dora to chat with their old _Potterwatch_ companion Lee Jordan on his popular Wizarding Wireless Network show, and had also rather enjoyed talking about their return with Tegan Fawcett, the new editor of the increasingly respectable _Quibbler_, who'd taken over after the apparently ever more eccentric Xenophilius Lovegood had finally retired to Sweden to hunt Snorkacks. It made for an exhausting week, but the end result had been a success; most of the articles and interviews had focussed on the positives of this miracle, although Rita Skeeter had published a story in her gossip magazine _Tadah!_ that had not only crossed the boundary of being libellous but kicked its shins as well. Remus had a strong suspicion that the tone had been vaguely related to the fact that Harry had arrested her for trespass three days before when they'd caught her up a tree near their cottage, scratched and battered, as she wrestled an owl for their mail.

And after the interviews came the visitors. Andromeda, of course, had been there from the beginning, flying out of the Floo mere moments after they'd returned to the house and hugging her daughter solidly for fifteen minutes while she sobbed with utter relief. The Weasleys had also been constant visitors, Molly providing injections of food at regular intervals (since she was sure they would be far too busy to cook themselves), Arthur delivering each article as it was published and staying to discuss whatever issues it happened to raise. Victoire had been all but glued to Teddy's side and Bill had dropped by to help Remus convert the old cellar back into a suitable place for his now-pending first transformation in this brave new world. The Wolfsbane Potion, which had been refined in the last twenty years so that only one dose was necessary in the few days before a change, was provided by Kingsley, whose wife was a skilled apothecary. And Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione had decided that the best way to distract them from the circus of their return was to inundate them with kids.

Remus liked them all from the start. Young James was his grandfather and Sirius all rolled into one; within twenty seconds of meeting him, he'd thwarted the young man's first attempt to prank him and within about thirty he'd discovered that Harry's son not only had possession of the Marauder's Map but was more than living up to it. Albus was a rather more serious character but easily likeable once brought out of his shell, and little Lily was frankly adorable. She had attached herself to Dora after about ten seconds, enamoured by her bubblegum pink curls, and Hugo, apparently her playmate, was soon fervently egging both Dora and Teddy along to compete in changing their features, in what Harry laughingly christened a morph-off'. And finally there was Rose, who bombarded them all with questions about how they came to be here and how the accident had all worked, fascinated to learn about this strange new magic. When he caught Ron's eye during the barrage, his former student had nodded his head in his wife's direction and mouthed _twins_.

And of course, once word was out, old acquaintances came knocking from every direction. Surviving Order members such as Hestia Jones and Dedalus Diggle had all but beaten a path to their door, and even Mundungus Fletcher had skulked out of the woodwork to greet them. Old school friends and workmates of Dora's, all looking disconcertingly older, had been quick to drop by, and Remus had been inundated by former pupils. Neville Longbottom had been the first, along with his wife Hannah, escorting a slightly frailer but still indomitable Minerva McGonagall around for tea. Luna Lovegood – now Scamander – had arrived one morning with her husband Rolf and twin sons on the back of an enormous palomino hippogriff. On one memorable afternoon, twenty-seven different people had all dropped round to say hello. It was verging upon the overwhelming.

Inevitably, it was Molly who had come up with the solution and in spite of Remus' reservations on the matter, Dora had loved the idea and they had ploughed ahead. Friends had been informed and asked to help out; general invitations to all concerned had been issued via adverts in the _Prophet_ and the _Crucible_ to anyone who wished to come. And so it was that Remus found himself standing with his wife and son on a bright morning in early August in the vast garden at The Burrow with several hundred people, most of whom he barely knew, as the slightly disconcerted centre of attention at what Ron had cheerfully christened a _So Glad You're Not Dead_ _After All _party.

George had constructed three enormous banners that flashed their names and cheered loudly if they walked too close. Molly had made several cakes the size of a reasonably proportioned Hungarian Horntail. Lee Jordan was setting up his equipment in Arthur's old potting shed ready for a pending outside broadcast. And so far, and with a lack of acknowledgement of his condition that was frankly disconcerting, fifty-three different people had walked up and shaken his hand.

It was more than a little frightening. He'd almost considered going home and hiding in bed.

But nearby, Dora was grinning from ear to ear and obviously having a ball as she chatted enthusiastically with her old colleague Esther Proudfoot about changes in the Auror Department over the last twenty years. A little further away, at the trestle tables, Teddy was laughing his head off with Victoire and a group of school friends as they helped themselves to trifle.

And there was cake. You couldn't argue with that.

"Good grief, Remus. You look scared to death."

The familiar squeaky voice startled Remus out of his reverie and, with a broad smile, he looked down. "Hello Filius."

Filius Flitwick, his former colleague and the current Headmaster of Hogwarts, grinned as he cheerfully stretched up and deposited a plate that contained a chunk of chocolate fudge cake that was almost as large as he was on a nearby table before levitating himself efficiently onto a conveniently placed chair. With a click of his fingers, he Summoned a fork and tucked in.

"Mmmm," he ruminated contentedly. "Good cake."

Still smiling, Remus took a seat beside his diminutive friend. "Well, it _was _made by Molly Weasley."

"The woman's a genius." Filius smacked his lips. "You can't argue with cake like this."

"I was just thinking the same thing myself. Aside from anything else, it can't talk back."

Filius gave a peel of laughter. "True, true!" He slapped Remus' arm in a friendly manner. "I always liked your little asides, Remus. They livened up the staff room no end. That was always missing, after you had to go."

Remus had always enjoyed those evenings in the staff room, chatting with Pomona and Minerva, joking with Filius and poor Charity Burbage about their lessons, their students, occasionally even about Severus, Argus or Sybil when they'd done something of particular note. It'd been years prior to that since he'd been able to talk comfortably with a group of adults who knew of and acknowledged his condition, and he missed the almost chummy camaraderie that he'd found there. Although he'd been a jack-of-all-trades out of necessity, it had been that year at Hogwarts where he'd felt he'd truly found the place, the profession where he belonged. It had made seeing it ripped away by his own stupidity only that much more painful, though realistically, with the jinx on the Defence position, he knew he'd been an over-optimistic fool to have expected anything else.

"How is Hogwarts these days?" he asked, hoping that the slightly plaintive note in his voice was only in his imagination. "Harry told me the rebuilding work has left it as good as new. And I know that Neville Longbottom is teaching Herbology."

"And he's Head of Gryffindor, and a fine job he's doing too!" Filius helped himself to another forkful of cake. "The faces have changed, of course, except for Hagrid and me." He gestured to the gamekeeper who was apologetically helping George to re-hang one of the vast banners after accidentally getting the hook of it caught in his beard. "And Sybil, of course – nothing short of a dragon through the window would get her out of that tower these days. Most of the teachers that survived the battle have moved on in the last twenty years, and of course we've a whole new generation in the classrooms for whom those wars are nothing more than a story." Filius' expression grew more serious. "And that feels dangerous to me. Complacency led to Voldemort's rise. Complacency after Voldemort's fall led to him rising again. And the place to put a stop to that is Hogwarts."

Remus nodded. "I couldn't agree more."

Filius smiled broadly. "I'm pleased to hear that. Because I've got a plan to tackle the problem, Remus, to give the possibility of threat some _immediacy_. And I intend to use the vacancies we currently or will soon have at Hogwarts to solve it."

"Vacancies?" A strange, twisting, uncomfortably hopeful sensation abruptly took up residence in Remus' stomach but violently he forced it away. _Don't be ridiculous. You're twenty years out of date. He's just asking your opinion, that's all_…

"Mmmm." Further application of cake delayed Filius' response. "The first being History of Magic."

"_History of Magic_?" Remus utterly failed to conceal his astonishment. "Wait a minute, I wouldn't have thought that would _ever _be a vacancy. What about Professor Binns?"

Filius looked up at him, his expression weary. "You didn't hear? At the end of that awful year, a few weeks before the battle, _Professor _Carrow had Binns exorcised."

"_What?_ Why?"

Filius' shrug was sadly resigned. "They didn't want him teaching anything that didn't fit in with their _Purebloods Forever_ curriculum and you know what old Binns was like – he didn't know anything but that same syllabus he'd been teaching for about a century. He didn't make a stand or put up a fight – he simply _couldn't _change and he told the same history he always had, Muggle-borns and all. So Amycus Carrow summoned some representatives from the Spirit Division to cast him out. They were careful not to destroy him, in spite of Carrow egging them on, but what they did means he can't enter the Hogwarts grounds anymore. But the Spirit Division smuggled him away and found him a nice spot in the History Section of the Wizarding Archives. He gives lectures, though not usually to much of an audience. He's the same as ever. I'm not sure he even noticed the change."

Remus smiled wanly. "That sounds about right."

"I got in a nice young chap to replace him." With a final swallow, Filius polished off his helping of cake. "You might remember him from your N.E.W.T class – Demetrios Warwick?"

Remus nodded – Demetrios had been a dark-haired Slytherin who'd always had more interest in the origins of spells and curses than their usage. He'd also shown nothing but disdain for the prejudiced views of some of his housemates. "I remember Demetrios. He was a good student."

"He was a good teacher for these last twenty years - the children actually started paying attention in History of Magic lessons." Filius' expression grew suddenly awkward. "But I'd noticed in the last couple of years that he'd been getting a bit restless. He was fascinated by that Portal of yours and what it could do, and I think he was a bit disappointed when he contacted Penelope Weasley and found out the only available position in the Time Division had just been filled by one of his pupils."

Remus had a sudden feeling as to where this was going; his eyes drifted to where his son was laughing with Ginny and Ron. "Teddy's job. He's been offered Teddy's job."

Filius nodded. "I think so. He owled me his resignation three days ago and told me he'd been taken on as an Unspeakable. I can't imagine it would be anything else. But since he's leaving, I thought now was as good a time as any for a shift in the syllabus to, shall we say, more contemporary events?"

"That sounds reasonable." Remus was starting to wonder where all this was heading. He knew enough of Filius and the slightly pointed look in his eyes to know that it was heading somewhere, but penetrating this line of thought was proving to be beyond him.

Filius was rubbing his hands together. "And with that in mind… I've been speaking to your _son_."

A strange rush tumbled through Remus' stomach, shock, satisfaction, and approval, all tinged just slightly by a bitter edge of _envy_. "Teddy didn't tell me you'd offered him a job."

Filius shrugged. "I haven't yet, although I'd like to. I assume you know about the plans he's been making with Hermione Weasley."

Remus laughed, although it came out a little forced – after seeing the amount of paper strewn across the lounge for the last few days as the pair had made notes, it would have been rather hard to miss the aforementioned plans. "I know he and Hermione are intending to revise and update _Hogwarts: A History_ together. He's very much looking forward to it."

_Stop it. Don't discourage Filius. This could be a wonderful opportunity for your son and he'd make a very good teacher. So don't go and spoil it just because you're jealous_.

"I know, and it's quite a project. With Hermione working at the Ministry, the majority of the work will fall on him." Filius was fingering his now empty plate and eyeing up the cake table with a certain degree of intent. "Which is why I was going to suggest he might like to take up the position next year rather than this, when the majority of the hard work on his revisions will be done."

_A year. I could get used to it in a year. And I could help him. I'd want to help him_.

"I think under those circumstances, he'd be delighted." _There, well done. The right thing to say._ "Do you have someone in mind to fill in in the meantime?"

"As it happens, I do." Filius' eyes never left the groaning monstrosity that was Molly Weasley's enormous carrot cake. "You."

It took perhaps ten seconds for that single word to penetrate the foggy, slightly distracted layers of Remus' brain. And when it did, the best he could muster was a single, slightly choked out word.

"Pardon?"

"You." The matter-of-factness with which Filius made the statement was frankly shocking. "I'm offering you a job, Remus. Harry said you hadn't even been looking when I asked him, and I know you love to teach. So there you have it."

"But…" The connection between his mouth and brain seemed to be suffering from a catastrophic failure. "I… Filius, I've never taught History of Magic. I haven't done it since school! I…"

"Which just goes to show you weren't listening properly earlier." Filius tapped his fork firmly against his plate with a clang. "I want to give recent history some _immediacy_ for the students, Remus. I want you to teach the same thing to every year. The two wars with Voldemort. You were there for it all, after all, fighting on the front lines, and for you it was a _month _ago. It doesn't get much more _immediate_ than that."

"But…" Remus was too flustered to wonder why on earth he was still protesting. "I don't know everything that went on during those wars. And I don't know about how it ended…"

Filius gave a shockingly casual shrug. "Read a book. Teddy has several. Or of course, you could just ask a certain _Harry Potter_ and his friends for details! You've got access to the best source of first-hand material on the subject there is! And it's only for a year, Remus. After that you can go back to teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts where you belong."

It was about this point that Remus became convinced that he had somehow tumbled into an impossible parallel universe. Unless of course, he'd fallen asleep and started dreaming…

"Defence?" he managed weakly.

"Oh, didn't I mention that part?" Filius grinned. "My Defence teacher has been looking to leave and set up a Boggart Sanctuary in Suffolk, and he told me at the end of last term that with another year's salary in his pocket, he'll have enough money to do it. You can use the year in between to catch up on the changes and innovations in the subject while you were gone, so that by the time he leaves, you'll be ready to take it on again. It couldn't be more perfect, really. Your coming back has saved me an awful lot of head-hunting."

"Glad to help." He couldn't focus. The world was a daze. This couldn't be real, it was just too good, too perfect… Things like this just _didn't happen_ to him…"But what about my condition? The parents won't want…"

"Oh, that's nothing that can't be regulated for." Those easy shrugs were starting to fray Remus' fragile, disbelieving nerves. "We managed well enough last time, except for one exceptional night. And Minister Shacklebolt revoked most of those ridiculous anti-werewolf laws long ago, so you've nothing to worry about on that score. There will still be some idiots of course, but people are a lot more tolerant than they used to be. As it happens, that was partly down to you." Filius smiled gently. "After all, a generation worth of students found out that a werewolf could also make an extremely good teacher, and an ordinary, pleasant, likeable human being to boot. And _they're_ the parents now. Remember that." He rubbed his hands together once more. "So, then, Remus, what do you say? I've yet to ask your son, of course, but I've got a year's grace on his position. It's you I need an answer from." He fixed Remus with a penetrating stare. "Will you come back to teach at Hogwarts?"

And that was the question. He'd been humming and hawing and making protests as the conversation rampaged on like a runaway hippogriff, rampaging out of all control. But that was the simple, straightforward, fundamental truth behind it all, and Remus could feel the daze lifting from his mind as he absorbed it, let it consume him, let the idea settle - and stared in the face of the alternative, of not going back to the one job he'd loved more than any other.

And he knew, right then, that there could only ever be one answer.

"Yes," he said. "I will."

"Magnificent!" Filius clapped his hands together, almost tumbling out of his chair in his enthusiasm. "It'll be wonderful to have you back! Now if you'll excuse me, there's a piece of carrot cake that most definitely has my name on it…"

And then he was gone, jumping down from his seat and vanishing into the crowd as though he hadn't just rocked his former, and soon to be current, colleague to his core. And in the silence that followed, Remus simply sat, staring at the brightly coloured banners overhead and allowed himself to take in everything that had just happened.

_I'm going back to Hogwarts. I'm going back to Hogwarts._

_Sweet Merlin. I'm going to be a teacher again_….

It took about five seconds for his smile to spread into an all-out grin. He was going back to Hogwarts…

"Remus!"

His wife's voice started him out of his joyful reverie. Dora thrust her way out of the crowd, dragging a smiling Harry by one arm as she waved a small piece of paper emphatically in the other.

"Remus!" she exclaimed again, her face flushed but her eyes ecstatic. "Remus, guess what? I'm going to be an Auror again!"

Remus' eyes darted immediately to Harry, whose smile and shrug seemed wholly inadequate when compared to the fact the Dora was grinning like a Cheshire cat and dancing on the spot so happily that her feet barely touched the ground.

"The department always needs good Aurors." Harry's smile was spreading into a grin as he gestured to the piece of paper that Tonks was continuing to wave around. "I didn't see the point in letting one of the best go to waste, so I arranged a schedule of retraining and updating. She'll be qualified to go back on the beat by Christmas. I'd have told you sooner but it took a little while to sort out…"

"Isn't it _fantastic_?" With a half step, half-leap, Dora flung herself into his arms and Remus responded by lifting her into the air as she giggled and hurled her exclamations of joy towards to bright blue sky. He couldn't help but remember how devastated she'd been when she'd lost the job she'd trained so hard for and loved so much, how frustrated and at a loss that she was no longer able to help protect those she cared for, at least in an official sense. He couldn't help but beam his silent gratitude over her shoulder at Harry as she engulfed him in her embrace once more, revelling in her good fortune.

"It's wonderful..." Remus' sentence was cut off briefly by his wife's lips, but it wasn't an interruption he had any vast objections to. "I'm so happy for you."

Her hands still clasped around his neck for balance, Tonks leaned back and beamed at him. "That's a coincidence. I'm happy for me too." One sharp fingernail poked his shoulder. "And Teddy's got his research project with Hermione on the cards, so he's a little less upset about losing his job. Now all we need to do is get _you_ sorted out…"

He couldn't help it. The smile that spread across his lips was unsuppressable.

Dora's dark eyes glittered. "And just what are you grinning about?"

Remus considered playing ignorant but decided in the end just to come right out and admit it. "Filius Flitwick just offered me a teaching job at Hogwarts."

Dora's eyes widened joyfully and her hands flew away from his neck, apparently with the intention of being flung around him once more. It was just a little unfortunate that her grip on him had been the only thing keeping her leaning body upright.

"Oof!" Backside met grass with an echoing thud, but Remus' quickly offered hand was slapped away as his wife glared with sudden fierceness up from the ground.

"I hope you bloody well took it!" she exclaimed forcefully. "I know you, Remus. I know you'll have tried to make excuses, but teaching's what you were made for so you'd better have…"

Remus conceded the point with a nod of his head. "I'll admit I did make a few excuses along the way. But in the end…" He shrugged slightly. "I decided I was being an idiot. So yes, I bloody well took it."

"Yes!" Dora's exuberant air-punch from a seated position drew a fair amount of attention but Remus was distracted by Harry's emphatic slap on the back.

"That is _brilliant_," he declared and Remus was both flattered and a little daunted by the sincerity in his expression. "I can't think of anyone I'd rather have teaching my kids. I'll have to buy Professor Flitwick a bottle of mead to compliment him on his good sense." He paused a moment to assist Tonks as she pulled herself back to her feet and dusted away the grass from her robes. "I assume you'll be teaching Defence?"

"From next year, yes." At Harry's quizzical expression, Remus explained. "For this year, I'm teaching History of Magic. Filius wants the children to learn about the First and Second Wars from someone who was there. _Recently_." He met Harry's eyes with an expression both apologetic and hopeful. "Although, if you've no objections, I might need your help with a few parts of the syllabus…"

Harry's smile was genuine. "I'd be happy to."

"Mum! Dad! Harry!" With an exuberance not at all dissimilar to his mother's, Teddy appeared abruptly out of the crowd, his face lit up with a glorious smile. In his hand, he held a plate of carrot cake.

_Ah_ _ha_…

Grinning from ear to ear, Teddy's eyes darted across the faces of his three loved ones. "I just saw Professor Flitwick at the cake table!" he exclaimed. "And you'll _never_ guess what he asked me…"

------------------

The north battlement of Hogwarts castle was deserted. It was probably just as well.

Remus released a slow, careful sigh as he leant slowly against the jutting crenellations of the wall and stared out over the grounds to where Hagrid's hut hunkered in the dark and brooding shadow of the Forbidden Forest, unchanged and unchangeable in the light of a cloudy September morning.

It all looked just the same.

He wasn't quite sure what he'd expected really.

The last time he had stood on this spot, he had, as far as the world was concerned, been killed. It seemed incredible, even knowing all too well that twenty years had passed him by in the blink of an eye, that there was no sign now, no scar from the destruction he had seen that day, that had happened, for his mind, a mere two months before. The great gash that a giant's club had rent out of the wall had healed without a trace, the courtyard and lawn beneath smooth and neat as though great craters had never been torn from their surface, throwing clods of earth, stone, and other, less pleasant things into the air as bombastic spells struck home. There was no hint now of the bodies that had strewn the ground below except for a beautifully crafted memorial in the Entrance Hall. He still found it both difficult and bizarre to look at it. Aside from anything else, it still carried his name.

Make it real for the students, Filius had asked of him. Make them understand the horrors that come from hatred and prejudice and war. Make sure they realise what it all leads to, so it can never happen again. Tell them the whole truth.

It was still so vivid in his mind, the memories of this place in chaos, the terror that darkness could inflict. Where better to tell that story than here?

He glanced at his watch. 11am. It was September the first and the Hogwarts Express was just pulling out of Kings Cross station. The students were on their way.

His students.

He was back. He was a teacher again. And his students were coming.

Even now, after spending a month preparing lessons with help and advice from Harry, Kingsley and Hermione, even after spending the entirety of yesterday fitting out his new office near the History of Magic classroom, it still didn't quite seem real somehow. It probably wouldn't until the halls were echoing once more with student feet and happy, laughing voices that could chase away the too recent memory of spell blasts and reverberating screams.

It did feel strange to be back. But Hogwarts was Hogwarts and the good memories he had here would always outweigh the bad. And now he had the chance to tip that balance even further. To make new memories in a place he loved.

He'd chosen not to live here in the end – it meant too much to him seeing his wife and son every evening to think about giving that up. Filius had been extremely generous in arranging for the Floo in his new office to be connected to the fireplace at Winter Hollow so that Remus could commute to work each morning. The security precautions that Harry and Dora had set in place to ensure that no one could use the connection as a back door into the school had been grand in scale and ambition, but seemed to have proved effective, if Ron's scorched head and shocked expression when he tested the wards was anything to go by. They were downstairs now, adding the finishing touches to his office to ensure no student would be able to make the return trip, ably assisted by Teddy, who, for his community service, had been charged with helping around Hogwarts castle as required; the arrangement had proved ideal, since it meant that Teddy had ready access to both the ghosts and the Hogwarts library that would be so important for his research. His son had few objections to assisting the creaky Madam Pince around the library or assisting the house-elves in the kitchens and had even taken to the repeated scorch-marks and claw-swipes that came with helping Hagrid with his creatures with impressively cheerful alacrity but his assisting the aging and increasingly irrational Mr Filch with his caretaking duties had proved a little more of a bugbear. Filius had promised these less dignified duties would be limited once the students returned – after all, it was hardly appropriate for a potential teacher to be seen wiping scum off the corridors by his students – but it came as no surprise that his son had volunteered so quickly to take a break and help with the enchantments. Remus had been a little concerned that these intricate spells would all have to be shifted when he moved jobs and most likely offices, next year until Dora had rather gleefully pointed out that the new History of Magic teacher was very unlikely to protest at his borrowing the fire.

Two Professor Lupins, she'd teased cheerfully. However was the world going to cope?

Remus was a little more concerned about how the students would cope, but considering the possibilities that had faced him a couple of months before, pondering potential student confusion hardly seemed like the end of the world.

He'd been given a second chance. A second chance to live his life, a life he never thought he'd have, a beautiful wife, a wonderful son and a job he loved in a world where, if not always popular, he was at least accepted. He had wonderful friends and a family he loved more than anything in the world. And now as he stood with the wind ruffling his hair and cooling his face, staring out over a Hogwarts that had risen like a phoenix from destruction, he couldn't help but feel that not even every drop of Felix Felicis in the world could make him feel more lucky.

Closing his eyes, Remus lifted his face to the sky and, not sure exactly who he was addressing, not sure he even cared, he whispered two simple words that seemed somehow wholly inadequate.

"Thank you."

---------------------

"Thank who?"

Tonks couldn't help but smile as Remus jumped a good foot at the sound of her voice. There was something boyish and distinctly adorable about him when he was startled, and she always found it difficult to resist the urge to make her husband jump on the rare occasions it presented itself. She considered it a wifely perk.

To give him his due, Remus rarely stayed startled for long, and today was no exception. "Where did you come from?" he asked, his voice surprisingly calm for the most part as he turned to face her. "I didn't hear you."

Tonks grinned as she wandered over to join him, settling herself on his merlon as she stared out over the grounds. "Ah, you see it's all that Stealth and Tracking retraining I've been doing. Tonks the baby elephant has ceased to be. From now on, I'll glide across the ground like a silent ghost, ready to pounce at any moment…" She nodded her head in the direction of the nearby turret. "Mind you, I went flat on my face near the top of the stairs. So I strongly suspect you weren't paying attention."

He smiled fondly as he settled next to her, butting her shoulder with his playfully as he leaned his elbows on the stone. "I was just thinking."

Tonks returned the affectionate shoulder butt with one of her own. "About what?"

His eyes seemed to drift somewhere far away. "This. Being here. What happened here. What _would_ have happened here if Teddy hadn't…"

The hand she laid gently across his wrist was enough to still the remainder of the sentence. "Don't."

His expression was vaguely reproachful. "It's important to remember. So many people died. We could have died. We _should_ have died."

Gently, she laid one finger across his lips. "Of course it's important to remember," she replied softly. "But it's equally important not to _dwell_. We've been given this miracle. Let's not waste it wallowing in might-have-beens."

His smile was gentle. "I know. It's just…hard. Especially here…"

Tonks understood exactly what he meant. Flashes of memory, of screams and bangs and that bizarre image of her own frozen face staring back at her for an instant as she watched her copied self being engulfed by a life-stealing burst of deadly green light… It had all happened here. Here was where, but for her son, she would have _died_.

But she hadn't died. That she was standing here now was proof enough of that. What was the point of going over it all again when it hadn't even happened? All brooding on the past did was get in the way of time better spent living for the present and the future. She'd learned that lesson the hard way in the year before their marriage.

Old Mad-Eye used to say that the only thing _might-have-been_ ever got you was a bunch of regrets and a few more scars that would never have happened if you'd cleared your head and stuck with the here and now. Mad-Eye had been a paranoid git and daft as a coot more often than not, but the old bugger had known what he was talking about.

Carefully, Tonks fixed Remus with a pointed look. "I know it's hard for you. You were built to brood. It's hexed into your brain. In Remus-world, it goes – oh dear, something has happened. I must set aside time to brood on it incessantly…"

"Hey!" This shoulder butt carried a little more weight. "I'm not _that_ bad."

Tonks grinned, knowing she was winding him up and not much caring. "You bloody are, you know. But that's okay. Now I've finally got the time to train it out of you."

One eyebrow rose with slow deliberateness until it had all but disappeared beneath his hairline. "_Train it out of me_? What are you going to do – corner me with a chair and crack a whip until I stop it?"

Tonks waggled her eyebrows playfully. "Now you're just giving me ideas."

Remus rolled his eyes but she could tell he wasn't really annoyed. "Thank you, but years of once monthly and fairly ineffectual bondage sessions with the chains in the cellar were quite enough for me. But as for the brooding…" He smiled slowly. "I'll see what I can do. It isn't as though life has left me all that much to brood on."

"And yet, I know you'll still give it a try." Smiling cheekily, Tonks ducked under her husband's arm and snuggled affectionately against his shoulder. His arm tightened over her back and squeezed. "But I still love you."

"And even if I don't brood, you'll still tease me about it." His voice was a rumble against the top of her head. "But I still love you too."

Tonks indulged herself for a moment, drinking in his warmth, his scent, his touch, the sensation of just being here, with him and knowing, once and for all, that they had time to build a proper life, a _future _together. It felt magnificent. It felt _right_.

"Who were you thanking?" The question drifted off her lips without any conscious thought. "When I arrived, who did you thank?"

His arm tightened across her shoulders. "Whoever was responsible for letting me have this."

Tonks pressed her cheek into the fabric of his robes, not sure if at any moment in her life before she had ever felt so content. "In that case," she said softly. "They get a vote of thanks from me as well. And it's not a debt I can ever repay."

--------------------------

Teddy hadn't been sure if he would be interrupting by joining his parents when he'd looked up from the courtyard, and seen them cuddling together on the very battlements from which he had snatched them two months before. But his mother had spotted him and beckoned enthusiastically, his father had smiled and waved and before he knew it, there he was, putting down the mop and bucket that Filch had grumpily supplied him with a few minutes before, and standing with them as they stared out over the Hogwarts grounds, struggling to fight off a very disconcerting sense of déjà vu.

It was so strange, seeing them here of all places. So many times he'd stood and watched that scene play out, the one in which they'd apparently died, and knowing it hadn't really been them didn't make the memory seem any less real. He'd thought it was them as he'd watched it, he'd felt their loss each and every time. There was still a part of him that couldn't quite believe, as he stared at them now, that giants wouldn't come and smash the battlements, that Dolohov wouldn't appear to cast his deadly curse. But they were here, now, smiling at him, pulling him in between them, a quick kiss from his mum, a tap on the arm from his dad as he ushered him in to the circle of their affection.

His parents. His family.

And he loved them so.

"So." His mum grabbed the mop and swung it playfully, successfully dousing both her husband and her son's feet with water as the bucket went inevitably flying. "How's life as the Hogwarts dogsbody?"

Teddy accepted the towel his father had conjured with a wry smile as he bent to dry his feet. "Suitably revolting, considering I'm being punished," he admitted ruefully. "Filch has definitely lost the plot in the last couple of years. I'm not sure the third floor toilets have been cleaned since I was at school, and they were none too pleasant back then either. Even the house-elves won't touch them. And there's some mould down by the Potions classroom that I think might be developing a life of its own. If it carries on like this, I might have to _name _it…" He sighed. "I can't wait until term starts and I can go back to helping in the library."

"Just wait until the students are back." Mum was nodding knowingly. "Then even the library will be no refuge. I've seen Dungbombs in there, mud, water, custard…"

"Custard?"

"Best study session ever, that one." Mum beamed reminiscently. "The greatest food fight in Hogwarts history and it kicked off in the one room where food was forbidden to go. It lasted for _three hours_. Dumbledore came to break it up and ended up joining in. And of course, that resulted in the record for the most detentions I ever had in one go. Professor Sprout actually went _purple_…"

Dad was grinning too. "How many?"

"Every night for two months, weekends included, helping Pince to clean the books up. It took sixty-one detentions in a row for us to clean all those shelves by hand. Beat that!"

Dad chuckled. "I was the prefect, remember? The _good_ boy. Your cousin Sirius, however, would cheerfully take that record and raise you another month's worth."

Teddy, having encountered his mum's cousin Sirius whilst watching his parents' past, did not find this greatly difficult to believe. "What on earth did he do?"

Dad glanced out across the stony walls of Hogwarts castle towards the western side. "Let's put it this way. There's a reason why the western turret is crooked..."

Teddy shook his head as Mum let loose with peals of laughter. "Your friends were insane," he stated frankly.

Dad simply grinned. "Oh yes. But _fun_ too. I was never bored, being friends with them."

"I should imagine not." Teddy smiled to himself as he stared out over towards the Forest once more, his mind darting back to his dad's assertion that his friends had somehow saved him from being lost when he'd been trapped inside the Portal, halfway between past and future. They were just stories to him, just as his parents had once been stories, glimpsed within the Portal as he watched his parents' past but not really known in the same way, but he was so very grateful to them for giving him his father. He was so very grateful to have them both.

"Mum, Dad." Two faces, always familiar, but now so real, turned towards him. "Back at the cottage, not long after I pulled you through, you both told me that your lives weren't worth risking my future for." He allowed himself to grin. "Given the current circumstances, I would like to state for the record that you were both completely wrong and I will now accept your apologies."

He was glad that both his parents immediately saw the funny side.

"What," Dad declared with a chuckle, "you mean we're worth facing sentient mould and the third floor toilets? I'm flattered."

"What kind of apology were you after?" Mum laughed as she leaned back against the battlements. "I could grovel at your feet but I'd rather wait until you're wearing shoes that aren't covered in mop-water."

Teddy joined their laughter for a moment before turning more serious. "I meant that, though," he said quietly. "Having you back, having the chance to know you both and seeing you pick up your lives and be happy… That would have been worth almost any cost to me. I loved my job and I'll always be sorry I lost it but it was worth giving it up to have you both back in my life. Even if I'd gone to prison, I wouldn't have cared as long as you were both okay. I love you."

He felt his mother's arms wrap around him as he dropped his head gently onto her shoulder. A moment later, his father's arms engulfed them both.

"We love you too, son," Teddy heard him whisper. "We love you too."

--------------------

From the courtyard below, Harry Potter looked up at the three embracing figures and smiled.

It was strange how things turned out.

He still remembered those dark, terrible days that had followed the final victory over Voldemort. He remembered the succession of funerals, of one double funeral in particular, as he'd sat and stared at baby Teddy clutched in his weeping grandmother's arms and wondered how on earth the world would ever be able to put this right.

He'd never thought he'd see something like this.

He'd mourned so many in those days that had followed bitter victory; his parents, who'd died to save him, his loyal and loving godfather Sirius, Albus Dumbledore, an enigma even after death, Fred Weasley who died with a smile on his face, Dobby who died in his name, and even Severus Snape, who'd loved his mother just enough in the end to give him what he needed to win.

And he'd mourned a wonderful teacher who he'd never quite found the time to truly know, and his bright, determined wife, robbed of their future together and the time to get to know their son.

They had it now.

And although there were still others left to mourn who had been lost in that dreadful time, Harry couldn't help but feel that in seeing Teddy reunited with his parents, in seeing Remus and Tonks resuming the lives they truly deserved to lead, that one of the great injustices of that final battle had been miraculously put to rights.

And for the reunited Lupin family, all was finally well.


End file.
